Anything but your average Tuesday night.

By: Martyn | September 24th, 2008

With the sun penetrating my eyelids, so my day forcefully began. 23/09/08. No work, no plan, no nothing. On rolled 4pm, and at last, the day truly began. Getting down to Ninian Park – a site rich in history and tradition, a stadium rich in character (and rust) – in time for 16:45. The coaches leave in quarter of an hour in a game to determine bragging rights here in South Wales: Swansea City vs Cardiff City. Last minute fags and pissing in the shadow of the embarrassing modernist decor that is the exterior of our new stadium, the proverbial ’stone’s throw’ from our current cherished home. People mill about, trying to get to grips with the mighty confusing coach numbering system (”THREE BUS NO. 1′S?!!!”). Then at last, multiple 60 seconds after 5pm we set sail. Or more appropriately, the tyres began rolling over the tarmac. It must be some sight to the non-football fan stuck in traffic: There are more wheels than the room in the Burton’s Foods factory that produces the Wagon-themed chocolate products and the only time you’d find this many police about in Cardiff and the Vale is if the government threw ‘em a Christmas party with the promise and lure of a free bar. The helicopters tail, the motorcades lead in the manner that suggests to bemused and confused passer’s by that either get your cameras out ’cause the Queen and Prince Phil are about to drive past or the UK’s most dangerous prisoners are being transported! Traffic is held back at every roundabout – yes taxpayers the length and breadth of the country, your money is being well and truly burned right here!

On the journey, I try and read ‘Slowness’ by Milan Kundera, a book I must get through for my studies. It is however a book that I have continually neglected these past few weeks. I soon realise that I’d struggle to manage half a sentence in Janet & John publication, let alone a book by a Czech author written in French and then translated into English. Too excited, a little nervous, mostly optimistic, climbing the natural high that you wish would surface more often so as to eradicate the need for intoxication! Bridges in Bridgend, Neath and Port Talbot are decorated in blue and yellow, those who didn’t get a ticket cheer us on like we’re soldiers going into a battle. Seeing supporters in what may be regarded as Swansea’s catchment area sure is a buoying sight! Finally, we make it into Abertawe. The locals are excited now. This is their Cup Final and they are determined to welcome us in. One intelligent gentleman even sparks up a flare. Let’s hope he isn’t sailor and needs it the next time his boat is in peril.

We finally pull up at the ground and are greeted by the amazing sight – The Liberty Stadium itself is anything but amazing. Bland, boring, breezeblocks – of the bar being open. This is wholly unexpected! A Swansea supporting friend who works at the ground had informed me that we wouldn’t be blessed with such responsibility. Begin to wonder why I listened to the word of a Jack in the first place. After finishing our second beverage, my friend and I soon begin to realise that any hope of a third is as impossible as Israel hosting a party and expecting every nation in the world to turn up. Men + Beer + Rival Stadium + Derby game + Prisoner Treatment = Absolute pandemonium in the queues with no respect for even fellow Bluebirds. I temporarily feel sorry for the Swansea folk working behind our bar who have been pelted with beach balls, empty cups and frothy foul-mouthed tirades: They really must have had cobwebs in the wallet before doing tonight’s shift! We decided to enter the arena. Both sets of teenagers are at it already. These same teenagers who insinuate knife-slashing gestures at one another were probably content swapping Pokemon cards with each other just a few years ago. Decide that now isn’t the time to reflect on the way our culture and society is affecting and shaping the youth of tomorrow. Kick-off approaches and the atmosphere truly kicks in! Both sets of fans are in fine voice. They sing and jump and vent all their passion and jealousy at those of us from the capital city. We enjoy being the archetypal capital city living and benefiting swines and tease them so.

The stadium announcer says something, lots of something, but in a game like a derby you wonder why he bothers. Nobody listens or can hear, no matter how hard they try to do the latter. 6 minutes in and Cardiffian and FA Cup semi-final hero Joe Ledley is already in the book for a reckless challenge on eventual MOTM, Leon Britton. The game has well and truly begun. Here is a match report. Here are some bullet points. In absolutely no kind of order whatsoever, annnnarchyyyy!

- We concentrated too much on trying to give them a kicking rather than trying to win a football match.
- They knew Comminges was our weak-link and constantly exploited and benefited from this.
- My aforementioned Swansea supporting friend would not stop texting me. Small town folk really do enjoy beating the big city that overshadows them! Bah humbug?
- Miguel Comminges and Eddie Johnson are both infuriatingly timid, clearly unsuited to the English game and have no positional sense to speak of. They will never make it at this level and the sooner we get shot of the pair of them the better. Neither brings anything to the team. Johnson in particular looks like he’s never played the game before. He looks confused and lost. Its not even as if he doesn’t look arsed! He doesn’t know how to not look arsed, let alone arsed!!! Comminges looks like he has played this sport previously, but playing in League One for Swindon last year was clearly the level for him.
- Peter Enckelman played and it was bloomin’ brilliant to have a GK who provided delivery that didn’t give the ball straight back to the opposition.
- McPhail might have won the ball with the tackle he got sent off for, but his persistent sliding in was only ever going to end one way.
- If we couldn’t handle a vociferous, highly charged and possibly frightening crowd in this game, how the hell would we manage in the cut-throat Premier League or a play-off final?!
- Why did we resort to violent tactics rather than try and play our game? I have seen great signs of discipline from the team this season, but if Dave Jones couldn’t convey his message across then perhaps his troops aren’t as obedient to their master as he’d like to believe.
- Swansea played some nice stuff but it was nothing our own team hasn’t produced before.
- Once again, there were too many sloppy passes that everyone looked for others to take control of. Whereas in the Derby game we’d just leave the ball trickle harmlessly, today’s answer was just slide in on them as late as possible. Is there not a middle ground?!
- Our delivery looked good once again. The last two games have seen a marked improvement in the delivery of CK’s in particular.
- Where has our goal potency disappeared to??? Or was it never really there?
- The linesman on the side by Swansea’s East Stand was truly in a world of his own. To be fair, 95% of the fouls given against us were correct. But the gentleman in question turned a blind eye to several charges, blocks and other attempts at halting us in our path from the Swansea players down that particular side. Alan Wiley was not much better. One Swans player (Bodde maybe?) flew in with a crunching tackle that was on a par with several of the ones that earned our players mustard cards. Booking? Erm, no.
- Who the hell now starts in CM against Birmingham?! Gulp.
- Darren Purse. Is. The. Man.

So that was that. Dave Jones wasn’t pleased (he held his cool in the face of persistent “Paedo” chants and songs from the inbreds, unlike in a game against Leeds United two seasons back when he retorted by giving them the finger). The locals were so decided not to leave. An Only Fools and Horses DVD on the coach home did little to lift spirits, but now writing here the morning after the night before, it was only the Carling Cup and we had a nice little cup run recently. Swans fans may recall it. We certainly do! True, there will be countless texts on my phone that I ignore today, and true it was disappointing that the Jacks eradicated our long-standing unbeaten record. But I couldn’t care less if they draw Man Utd/Arsenal/Chelsea home or away in the next round as the league remains the main priority for the only team in Wales with promotion aspirations – yes, I know I tipped them to get into the play-off’s, but that was before the season started! – and its a shame that we will now be a man down in the centre of the park for what is a crucial game against Birmingham City on Saturday afternoon.