June 7 2018: capital letter

We’re in London, baby sitting. The much-frequented Mumsnet website reckons the average going rate in the capital is about £10 an hour plus, after midnight, a taxi home. It says nothing about train fare for two from Darlington.

On the journey south, Sharon checks the blog on her phone and is surprised to see an advert for a funeral parlour in Berkhamstead.

Yesterday I’d been paddling on-line around the Spartan South Midlands League, in which Berkshamstead play – didn’t they, indeed, contest a Vase semi-final against Bedlington Terriers in 1999, big home win for the Terriers and a moribund goalless draw in the second leg?

This, presumably, owes everything to cookies. It’s extraordinary how cadaverously they crumble.

We’re on the Embankment when my own phone rings. It’s West Auckland committee man Dave Bussey pointing out a mistake in yesterday’s blog – Punjab, and the Purewal brothers, weren’t in today’s Conifa Cup semi-finals as we said but lost in the quarters on Tuesday to Padina.

To whom? It’s a self-proclaimed independent region of Italy, promoted by the right wing political group Liga Nord – which translates as Northern League.

Thoughts of a second Northern League world cup winner – after West Auckland themselves in 1909 and 1911 – are dashed, however, when Padina lose 3-2 tonight to Northern Cyprus.

The Conifa Cup continues to prove newsworthy. The Isle of Man are apparently on the verge of expulsion after a row over someone else’s alleged wrong ‘un while Matabeleland’s goalie in a non-competitive game today is 60-year-old Bruce Grobbelaar. The old boy kept a clean sheet.

That we’re holding the fort in Greenwich, on the other side of the city, is because From Delhi to the Den, the younger bairn’s book on globe trotting football manager Stephen Constantine, is on the shortlist in the football section of tonight’s Sports Book of the Year awards at Lord’s.

He gets a free ticket but has to pay the neck end of £200 for his wife’s.

Owen doesn’t win but has done wonderfully well to get as far as he did. Dirty stop-outs, they don’t land back until 1 30am. It seems a bit optimistic to ask for the taxi fare home.

 

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