CHRISTCHURCH V HAMBLE CLUB
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 18TH 2017
Competition: Russell Cotes Cup, Second Round
Ticket price: £6
Programme: £1.50
Attendance: 31
Half time score: 1-0
Full time score: 3-2
Bird species: 52
Mileage: 491
Trip music: BBC Radio 6; The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway by Genesis; Lovely Creatures by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
BACKGROUND
Rather pathetically, nothing makes my heart beat faster than when the MEGA alert shrieks into action on my pager. That's precisely what happens on the afternoon of Tuesday, October 17th while I am planning my route to a relatively local football match in Leicestershire.
The rapid beeping of the alert is followed by a number of emotions coursing through my feeble mind: excitement; trepidation; reluctance; dread. What a heady mixture! Excitement comes because it may be a species I 'need' for Britain; trepidation and dread are due to the fact I may not be able to get to the bird if I 'need' it or I may need to do some nifty rearranging of family or work plans to have a go at said species; reluctance sometimes comes as a realisation that even if I 'need' the bird, I may not have enough enthusiasm to hurtle off vast distances for something I have seen abroad hundreds of times. All these things flash through my mind before I've even looked at the pager!!
When I've read a message, the next emotion may be relief; I don't 'need' the rarity for my British List or it may be on such a far flung outpost of Britain that I know I will never get there. Sometimes, just sometimes, a surge of adrenaline pumps through my veins when I realise it is a bird I 'need' and I have time to try and see it. Tuesday afternoon is just such an exciting occasion: there's a Two-barred Greenish Warbler in Dorset and I have a free day tomorrow!
After a text to Tottenham Tim to see if he is interested in a very long day out, there then comes a Skype conversation with Perfect Wife that starts with this leading question: "I need the car tomorrow for a twitch. You don't mind do you?"
"Not at all" is the understanding response, followed by "what is it?"
All I need do now is trawl the internet to find out every available detail about the site and the best viewing position and also to find a match to cap off a classic Twitch and Pitch day!
After returning from my match at Leicester Road, I quickly check again to see if the warbler was present late in the afternoon (yes it was!) and I finally make my decision to go for it at about 10.30pm. TT cannot rearrange all his appointments, so I am flying solo tomorrow. The twitch is afoot!
THE BIRDING
My body clock is weird. I really come alive at around ten at night, so catching a few hours sleep before driving a long way is not really an option. I am much safer setting off at midnight and catching a few Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzs in the car when I get to wherever I'm going. I also have a gut feeling I need to be at St. Aldhelm's Head, near Worth Matravers, at first light to have a chance of scoring the Big Prize. The Two-barred Greenish has been present for three days now but only identified yesterday, so is due to depart very soon. It might well have one last feed in the morning before moving off later in the day, if it's there at all! Fortunately, the weather forecast is for poor weather overnight, meaning the warbler may not feel like doing a flit, so I have a chance.
Driving overnight used to be a dream but these days it is the time when motorways are completely shut for roadworks. Tonight is no different and there are several detours through unknown territory to keep me alert, though The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway is always a welcome travelling companion. No matter, I have oodles of time, so relentlessly plod on . After I leave the last major road in Dorset, I see no more vehicles on the country roads until I get to the allotted car park in a field near the quarry. I even manage to catch sight of a Badger bumbling along a lane at about 3.00am, which I take as a good omen!
There are fewer cars parked up than I had imagined. I think birders are going soft today. Back In The Day, the car park would have been full by now; windows steamed up by hardcore snoring birders. Now, many wait on first news of a rarity and then set off. I hope those chancing that option don't miss out this morning. I hope I don't miss out this morning! If the bird has flown, the First Call Plan has paid dividends and a long trip has been avoided. Decisions, decisions: repeat after me: birding is not a relaxing hobby. Birding is not...!
I doze straight off in the car. It's a mild night and I don't even need a coat over me. At an unknown time, another car draws next to me and proceeds to open and slam car doors and the boot every minute or so. I have deliberately parked well away from other vehicles to avoid precisely this scenario, so I am a tad annoyed. For fucks sake, just settle down and get some kip you bastards: what the fuck are you doing anyway? How many times do you have to open the boot?!
One final bang of the boot from my noisy neighbours serves as my wake up call at 6.45am. They are togged up and away into the gloom. It isn't even light yet, so they are eager. Shadowy shapes are moving about, most wearing more clothes than I take to the Arctic Circle! Anyway, I need to get my rain gear and boots on and join the crowd to get a good viewing place.
Ten minutes later, I reach the quarry where the bird was frequenting yesterday. All the way along, I can hear Goldcrests moving inland up the hedgerow on either side of me. I hope my lifer hasn't joined them!
I pass a few people looking puzzled as to where to go. I cannot help feel that if you are travelling this far, you should do a little bit of research. As I pass by, they all look at me as if to say "where's he going?" Actually, I am going to where you should be; the place where Twitter and bird forums have suggested is the best place to see the warbler from!
I bag a place by the wall on the muddy top path and locate all the landmarks flagged up as being the bird's favourite spots. All I need now is the bird!
It is still very gloomy and the small crowd scan the dark bushes and trees in the quarry below us. One or two Firecrests show themselves - stunning birds but not the bird - as do a few Goldcrests. Suddenly, a guy standing a few feet away utters the mortal and hoped for words: "I've got the bird. It's behind the telegraph pole for me, about half way up the bush".
And there it was, a delightful, active green and white warbler with a pinkish bill - ostensibly like any other phylloscopus warbler to the untrained eye - hopping about in the gloom. LIFER!! I could have kissed the guy but I'm sure he wouldn't have appreciated it!
Instead, I settle down to try and get better views of the understated MEGA, which is no mean feat. It disappears in the thick cover for 10-15 minutes at a time, not helped by the fact the Goldcrests and Firecrests take a disliking to the poor waif.
I see the bird many times over the next couple of hours but it is never still for long. What is more, the weather is closing in never mind clearing up as forecast, so things aren't going to change for a while yet. I have seen this Two-barred Greenish Warbler well quite a few times, I've clocked all of its salient/diagnostic features so I leave and make room for anxious latecomers. Job done!
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| The view into the quarry. If you stood in line with the telegraph pole, it was a useful marker for the warbler's favourite tree. |
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| The small crowd gaze into the quarry. I thought there would be more there than this little gathering! |
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| Waiting for the warbler to come closer. The 'George Michael of Birding' is in that little lot. |
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| And there it is: Two-barred Greenish Warbler (a view I didn't get!). An understated little beauty. |
After a quick snack and a drink in the car, it's time to leave this grey, damp valley. It must look stunning when the sun's out! I pause only to snap the car park and the marker post to the quarry. Yesterday, Dorset birders hastily arranged car parking facilities so as not to inconvenience local residents. One well-known birdwatcher, otherwise known as George Michael, was criticised for not using it and thus avoiding a meagre £2 fee!
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| The Field of Dreams |
On my leisurely drive towards Portland, I happen upon a burger van in a layby: time for breakfast! After parking, I survey my neighbours; Transit van, Vauxhall Corsa, Dormobile, army tank, Renault van, army tank! It's strange world down here in the mysterious south!
My next stop is Lodmoor RSPB. After bagging a major rarity early on, I can now relax and take in a few back-up birds on my day out and also do some leisurely birdwatching. I have a Lifer under my belt and it's now time to enjoy the rest of the day.
There's been a long-staying Lesser Yellowlegs at Lodmoor and I hope to add it to my yearlist. This reserve is an amazing place, right on the northeastern edge of Weymouth. Being so close to a major town, it's a bit of a dog toilet but birding is usually very productive. I make my way to the viewing shelter, which is where the Lesserlegs was seen from yesterday. A photographer informs me that he saw it along the other side earlier. I don't rush, though, being as there's a Marsh Harrier sat on the marsh and a jaunty Kingfisher sat on a post on the island. There's no sign of the sun coming out, as yet; in fact, it's becoming greyer!
I follow the photographer's directions and find myself on an Easy Access path on the west side of the reserve. The channel viewable from this path is packed with waders and I am soon 'scoping the Lesserlegs. This American wader is a dainty little thing; a regular visitor to Britain from across The Pond. It isn't showing as close as some people have seen it judging by photos online. All I manage is a grim record shot, which is very disappointing. However, it's a nice bird to see and I spend some time watching it feed along a muddy bank, dwarfed by a neighbouring Shelduck.
With kind permission of Tony Hovell. See more of Tony's superb photographs at: www.tonyhovellbirds.com
Also on show are many Common Snipes, a few Dunlin, a Marsh Harrier quartering the fields, the very mobile Kingfisher, Black-tailed Godwits and nice selection of Mediterranean and Black-headed Gulls in various plumages. A bit of sunshine on the gathering would have been very welcome but instead, it starts to rain quite heavily!
While I am admiring the Yankee visitor, a local birder joins me and announces he's just seen the Red-breasted Flycatcher on Portland. I have been awaiting news of this bird on my pager but none has been forthcoming. I had begun to think my next target species had done a bunk, so my new friend's news is most welcome. After having my fill of Lodmoor's birds, I head back to the shelter of my car. I suspect the RB Fly might be a bit of hard work in these conditions.
I crawl through Weymouth onto Portland. I may raise a few eyebrows with this statement but I find this area of the country very uninspiring indeed. I need to come back here to tick off Weymouth's ground but I won't be rushing.
Anhoo, half an hour later I have found Broadcroft Quarry, somewhat gallingly right opposite the enrtrance to Portland United's football ground. Why couldn't they have been playing at home tonight?!
There are a couple of dejected-looking birders on the track: they haven't seen the flycatcher. Almost as soon as I've asked them the question, I hear the RB Fly calling! We head down a tiny wet path through the undergrowth and find ourselves in a clearing at the quarry's edge. The Red-breasted Flycatcher is calling continually and is extremely active. The fact it's being chased by a Robin isn't helping me get a good view of the bird!
Ninety minutes in the clearing provides me with close views of this 1st-winter, subtle beauty. It nips in and out of view, sometimes close, other times high in the trees. Often, I can hear it calling further away but cannot see it. Light conditions in the clearing are appalling but I manage one dark, photo that is almost acceptable. Whatever photographic conditions, I feel privileged to have spent some quality time alone with this delightful bird.
When planning this trip for the Two-barred Greenish Warbler, I had also checked out what back-up birds were available. Lesser Yellowlegs and Red-breasted Flycatcher were two but there was a disappointing omission: Stilt Sandpiper. The previous week, a Stilt Sand - another American wader but even rarer than the 'Legs - had been seen regularly at Arne. Unfortunately, it hadn't been reported since Sunday, so I thought I had missed it. Bingo: as I am leaving Portland, my pager tells me the bird has been seen this morning! The bad news is that Arne is almost exactly where I had been this morning, so I have to head back that way. And quickly!
Arne RSPB is famous as the venue for BBC's Springwatch. I am not sure the volunteers in the hut are quite accustomed to mad twitchers rushing into the the centre and babbling on about the location of a Stilt Sandpiper. I have a feeling I am going to miss out on this beast, so am anxious to get to its location as soon as possible. Bless 'em, the volunteers are more concerned with finding some Hawfinches that have just been found on the reserve: an Arne rarity!
With a map in hand, I rush off across the heath towards the estuary hide.
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| Unusual burger van customers! Well they say an army marches on its stomach... |
My next stop is Lodmoor RSPB. After bagging a major rarity early on, I can now relax and take in a few back-up birds on my day out and also do some leisurely birdwatching. I have a Lifer under my belt and it's now time to enjoy the rest of the day.
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| The rather jolly viewing shelter at Lodmoor. |
I follow the photographer's directions and find myself on an Easy Access path on the west side of the reserve. The channel viewable from this path is packed with waders and I am soon 'scoping the Lesserlegs. This American wader is a dainty little thing; a regular visitor to Britain from across The Pond. It isn't showing as close as some people have seen it judging by photos online. All I manage is a grim record shot, which is very disappointing. However, it's a nice bird to see and I spend some time watching it feed along a muddy bank, dwarfed by a neighbouring Shelduck.
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| A truly awful record shot of the Lesser Yellowlegs in abysmal light. I have these photographer excuses down to perfection now! |
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| As you can clearly see, there are better photographers out there than I!! Superb photos taken by Tony Hovell. |
Also on show are many Common Snipes, a few Dunlin, a Marsh Harrier quartering the fields, the very mobile Kingfisher, Black-tailed Godwits and nice selection of Mediterranean and Black-headed Gulls in various plumages. A bit of sunshine on the gathering would have been very welcome but instead, it starts to rain quite heavily!
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| Mediterranean and Black-headed Gulls relax in the gloom |
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| A view of Lodmoor Marsh complete with hunting Marsh Harrier in the distance. |
While I am admiring the Yankee visitor, a local birder joins me and announces he's just seen the Red-breasted Flycatcher on Portland. I have been awaiting news of this bird on my pager but none has been forthcoming. I had begun to think my next target species had done a bunk, so my new friend's news is most welcome. After having my fill of Lodmoor's birds, I head back to the shelter of my car. I suspect the RB Fly might be a bit of hard work in these conditions.
I crawl through Weymouth onto Portland. I may raise a few eyebrows with this statement but I find this area of the country very uninspiring indeed. I need to come back here to tick off Weymouth's ground but I won't be rushing.
Anhoo, half an hour later I have found Broadcroft Quarry, somewhat gallingly right opposite the enrtrance to Portland United's football ground. Why couldn't they have been playing at home tonight?!
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| Entrance to Broadcroft Quarry and flycatcher bushes in the background. |
There are a couple of dejected-looking birders on the track: they haven't seen the flycatcher. Almost as soon as I've asked them the question, I hear the RB Fly calling! We head down a tiny wet path through the undergrowth and find ourselves in a clearing at the quarry's edge. The Red-breasted Flycatcher is calling continually and is extremely active. The fact it's being chased by a Robin isn't helping me get a good view of the bird!
Ninety minutes in the clearing provides me with close views of this 1st-winter, subtle beauty. It nips in and out of view, sometimes close, other times high in the trees. Often, I can hear it calling further away but cannot see it. Light conditions in the clearing are appalling but I manage one dark, photo that is almost acceptable. Whatever photographic conditions, I feel privileged to have spent some quality time alone with this delightful bird.
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| Red-breasted Flycatcher: the best shot I could manage in challenging light conditions. |
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| Car park visitor hut at Arne. |
Amazingly, this is my first visit to this very famous RSPB reserve. I need to get here in summer to add Smooth Snake and Sand Lizard to my Life List. However, today my main target is the creek about half a mile away from the visitor centre. Sightings of the Stilt Sand are tidal-related and I have almost certainly lost this race against an invincible foe. Just ask King Canute!
I arrive in the hide to see the last of the waders heading out along the creek into the vast estuary. Avocet arses are all I see as they fly away from me to distant low tide feeding grounds. There is but one solitary Curlew left on the mudflat in front of me. I am too late and Stilt Sandpiper becomes a black mark on an otherwise perfect twitching day.
I scan the creek more out of habit than hope. A few teal remain but are miles away and a Little Egret scoffs at me as it flaps past the hide. A few deer are moving through the grass below the hide - deer do not at all inspire me in this country: in the wilds of Africa, yes; the UK, no! One of the animals raises its head and something isn't quite right about it; something not quite Red Deer. Hang on, could these be Sika Deer, a new mammal species for me in Britain?!
As I say, I rarely pay much attention to deer, so this could explain why Sikas haven't been on my radar. I am pretty sure I haven't seen this species before and make a note to check out my fieldguides when I get home. Those heart-shaped white backsides must be a giveaway.
I give up and head back to the car. On the way, I take more notice of the habitat. This must be a stunning place on a sunny spring morning. I make a vow to return next year.
Back at the car, I pack away my birding gear. It is disappointing to end the day with a 'dip' but I have seen some superb birds and added a new species to my British Bird List along with a potential new mammal, subject to some research. Time to plan Phase II: football!
I get a shock when I enter the postcode for Chichester in Jane SatNav. It is much further than I had imagined. I then realise I am going to Christchurch! Unfortunately, this is not the first time I have done this over the last 24 hours. I am on a different level when it comes to stupidity sometimes!
My journey eastwards is accompanied by heavy rain and even heavier traffic.
By the time I reach the MA Hart Stadium in Hurn (on the outskirts of Bournemouth) it has stopped raining. The problem now is the increasingly thick mist gathering over the ground. It will be a long, football-less drive home if this game is postponed!
There isn't much activity going on but players gradually start to arrive. I head into the clubhouse to see what's going on. That is empty too!
The club looks a good local facility, complete with a bowling lane down one side.
Activity does pick up and the turnstile is finally opened: it's game on! I pay £6 at the gate and receive a match ticket so I can access the clubhouse at half time. I hand over another £1.50 for the programme. I am assured by a local Groundhopper that the programme is a good one and he's proved right. Some clubs don't bother with a full issue for local cup matches - tonight's tie is in the Russell Cotes Cup - but the editor has done a professional job for this evening.
The pitch is already covered in a drifting mist and I worry about conditions later in the night. Still, there's nothing I can do about it now, so I'll just have to take things as they come. On my circuit of the stadium, my attention is immediately drawn to some bird feeders hanging from the perimeter fence; what a perfect venue for a Twitch and Pitch article!
It's not often one sees a bird identification poster on the wall of the tea hut either. There's also a plaque warning visitors to 'Never trust a skinny cook'. Christchurch is definitely a quirky place!
The stadium is neat and tidy. Spectators enter it (rather perilously) directly behind one goal. The tea bar and bird feeders are to the left and there's an area of covered seating to the right (the clubhouse is behind these seats). There's another small stand down the left touchline.
Behind the far goal is a patch of woodland and a stream. A net is handily placed to retrieve stray footballs from said stream. The club secretary is conveniently scribbling down tonight's teams on a white board next to the turnstile: very useful.
Christchurch host Hamble Club in a County Cup fixture this evening. My knowledge is so poor of football here in the deep south, I have to admit that I have never heard of Hamble Club: a shameful admission! Both teams play in the Sydenhams Wessex League; Hamble are 9th in the Premier Division while Christchurch lie 2nd in Division One. I sense a tight match but at least it goes straight to penalties without extra time!
I am correct in my prediction. The first half is a very tight, physical contest. The mist descends and disperses at regular intervals and I am still fairly certain that the referee will call a halt to proceedings at some point during the night. Oh well, the game has kicked off, so I can count the ground. I am never happy doing this but at least it saves very long return trips for another match just to satisfy some quirky 'ticking rule'!!
The only goal of the half comes in the 30th minute. 'Church move upfield with some neat one-touch passing and Chris Senior rounds everything off with a weak shot that bobbles in off the keeper. The announcer makes the crowd laugh when he says: "The first goal scored by... ... I haven't got the foggiest!" This is indicative of the gentle humour of the locals; I enjoy the banter between them very much tonight.
At half time, I retreat to the clubhouse. There's a rather intense bowling match taking place, which brings back memories of work outings many years ago (when I used to work 'properly'!). Pub bowling with pie and mushy peas thrown in for good measure were a staple feature of outings in the 80s.
Back outside, the fog is thickening up as the players emerge for the second half. I am also joined by a swarm of annoying midges, which comes as a bit of a surprise. They are decidedly bitey, too! Christchurch start the half with blistering speed. Maybe they are trying to avoid the midges? Whatever the cause, they double their lead within two minutes of the restart.
Things became interesting when Hamble are awarded a penalty. Sam Wilson sees his spot kick saved but Nick Watts follows up and sticks in the rebound. Or so I thought! More of this later...
The penalty incident injects the visitors with new-found confidence and they really go for their hosts. Danny Cox scores the equaliser (or so I thought!) with a remarkable chip over the keeper from just inside the box: a real thing of beauty. This top class finish is made even more incredible by the fact the same player had missed an open goal from a yard just a few minutes earlier!
It now becomes a thrilling end-to-foggy-end cup tie. As Hamble press for the winner (or so I thought!), Christchurch break away and score on the counter attack. Club strike back with another leveller (or so I thought!); Ricky Bull looking offside - from what I can discern through the fog - when he races through to fire home from an angle.
The final five minutes or so see Hamble Club really tear into Christchurch but they cannot bag another goal. As the final whistle blows, I wait for the penalty shoot out to begin, thinking the score ended in an exciting 3-3 draw However, the players shake hands and the fans begin to exit the ground!
It turns out, the follow up from the missed penalty did not go into the net for Hamble, meaning Christchurch had won through to the next round with a 3-2 victory!!! Still, at least I now have the satisfaction of writing that Cox and Bull scored Club's two goals: you couldn't make it up!
Bar a few motorway diversions, it is an easy drive home, if a little misty at first. I plop into bed at just gone 1.00am after a very long but highly enjoyable and productive day.
I arrive in the hide to see the last of the waders heading out along the creek into the vast estuary. Avocet arses are all I see as they fly away from me to distant low tide feeding grounds. There is but one solitary Curlew left on the mudflat in front of me. I am too late and Stilt Sandpiper becomes a black mark on an otherwise perfect twitching day.
I scan the creek more out of habit than hope. A few teal remain but are miles away and a Little Egret scoffs at me as it flaps past the hide. A few deer are moving through the grass below the hide - deer do not at all inspire me in this country: in the wilds of Africa, yes; the UK, no! One of the animals raises its head and something isn't quite right about it; something not quite Red Deer. Hang on, could these be Sika Deer, a new mammal species for me in Britain?!
As I say, I rarely pay much attention to deer, so this could explain why Sikas haven't been on my radar. I am pretty sure I haven't seen this species before and make a note to check out my fieldguides when I get home. Those heart-shaped white backsides must be a giveaway.
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| Sika Deer, a new mammal for the author. |
I give up and head back to the car. On the way, I take more notice of the habitat. This must be a stunning place on a sunny spring morning. I make a vow to return next year.
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| Middlebeare Hide |
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| More like a First World War trench than the entrance to a hide! |
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| A birdless creek at Arne. |
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| Another view of a birdless creek at Arne. |
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| Superb wildlife habitat at Arne RSPB (yes, it should be upper case!!). |
Back at the car, I pack away my birding gear. It is disappointing to end the day with a 'dip' but I have seen some superb birds and added a new species to my British Bird List along with a potential new mammal, subject to some research. Time to plan Phase II: football!
I get a shock when I enter the postcode for Chichester in Jane SatNav. It is much further than I had imagined. I then realise I am going to Christchurch! Unfortunately, this is not the first time I have done this over the last 24 hours. I am on a different level when it comes to stupidity sometimes!
My journey eastwards is accompanied by heavy rain and even heavier traffic.
There isn't much activity going on but players gradually start to arrive. I head into the clubhouse to see what's going on. That is empty too!
The club looks a good local facility, complete with a bowling lane down one side.
 |
| The deserted clubhouse. |
Activity does pick up and the turnstile is finally opened: it's game on! I pay £6 at the gate and receive a match ticket so I can access the clubhouse at half time. I hand over another £1.50 for the programme. I am assured by a local Groundhopper that the programme is a good one and he's proved right. Some clubs don't bother with a full issue for local cup matches - tonight's tie is in the Russell Cotes Cup - but the editor has done a professional job for this evening.
The pitch is already covered in a drifting mist and I worry about conditions later in the night. Still, there's nothing I can do about it now, so I'll just have to take things as they come. On my circuit of the stadium, my attention is immediately drawn to some bird feeders hanging from the perimeter fence; what a perfect venue for a Twitch and Pitch article!
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| It's not often one sees a bird table in a football ground! |
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| Bird feeders in a football ground? Sounds like a job for Twitch and Pitch! |
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| This Roller must have been attracted by the bird feeders (geddit?!) |
It's not often one sees a bird identification poster on the wall of the tea hut either. There's also a plaque warning visitors to 'Never trust a skinny cook'. Christchurch is definitely a quirky place!
The stadium is neat and tidy. Spectators enter it (rather perilously) directly behind one goal. The tea bar and bird feeders are to the left and there's an area of covered seating to the right (the clubhouse is behind these seats). There's another small stand down the left touchline.
Behind the far goal is a patch of woodland and a stream. A net is handily placed to retrieve stray footballs from said stream. The club secretary is conveniently scribbling down tonight's teams on a white board next to the turnstile: very useful.
 |
| I've often wondered what players would do if someone forgot to take these signs away at kick-off! |
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| Gloomy doesn't even begin to describe tonight's conditions! |
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| The seats backing onto the clubhouse behind one goal. |
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| Bird poster and wise advice in the club's tea hut. |
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| A lurking fishing net for stray footballs. |
Christchurch host Hamble Club in a County Cup fixture this evening. My knowledge is so poor of football here in the deep south, I have to admit that I have never heard of Hamble Club: a shameful admission! Both teams play in the Sydenhams Wessex League; Hamble are 9th in the Premier Division while Christchurch lie 2nd in Division One. I sense a tight match but at least it goes straight to penalties without extra time!
I am correct in my prediction. The first half is a very tight, physical contest. The mist descends and disperses at regular intervals and I am still fairly certain that the referee will call a halt to proceedings at some point during the night. Oh well, the game has kicked off, so I can count the ground. I am never happy doing this but at least it saves very long return trips for another match just to satisfy some quirky 'ticking rule'!!
The only goal of the half comes in the 30th minute. 'Church move upfield with some neat one-touch passing and Chris Senior rounds everything off with a weak shot that bobbles in off the keeper. The announcer makes the crowd laugh when he says: "The first goal scored by... ... I haven't got the foggiest!" This is indicative of the gentle humour of the locals; I enjoy the banter between them very much tonight.
At half time, I retreat to the clubhouse. There's a rather intense bowling match taking place, which brings back memories of work outings many years ago (when I used to work 'properly'!). Pub bowling with pie and mushy peas thrown in for good measure were a staple feature of outings in the 80s.
Back outside, the fog is thickening up as the players emerge for the second half. I am also joined by a swarm of annoying midges, which comes as a bit of a surprise. They are decidedly bitey, too! Christchurch start the half with blistering speed. Maybe they are trying to avoid the midges? Whatever the cause, they double their lead within two minutes of the restart.
Things became interesting when Hamble are awarded a penalty. Sam Wilson sees his spot kick saved but Nick Watts follows up and sticks in the rebound. Or so I thought! More of this later...
The penalty incident injects the visitors with new-found confidence and they really go for their hosts. Danny Cox scores the equaliser (or so I thought!) with a remarkable chip over the keeper from just inside the box: a real thing of beauty. This top class finish is made even more incredible by the fact the same player had missed an open goal from a yard just a few minutes earlier!
It now becomes a thrilling end-to-foggy-end cup tie. As Hamble press for the winner (or so I thought!), Christchurch break away and score on the counter attack. Club strike back with another leveller (or so I thought!); Ricky Bull looking offside - from what I can discern through the fog - when he races through to fire home from an angle.
The final five minutes or so see Hamble Club really tear into Christchurch but they cannot bag another goal. As the final whistle blows, I wait for the penalty shoot out to begin, thinking the score ended in an exciting 3-3 draw However, the players shake hands and the fans begin to exit the ground!
It turns out, the follow up from the missed penalty did not go into the net for Hamble, meaning Christchurch had won through to the next round with a 3-2 victory!!! Still, at least I now have the satisfaction of writing that Cox and Bull scored Club's two goals: you couldn't make it up!
Bar a few motorway diversions, it is an easy drive home, if a little misty at first. I plop into bed at just gone 1.00am after a very long but highly enjoyable and productive day.
