I was not my usual upbeat self for this one, even though my nearby Highworth connections make Swindon away one of the highlights of the season with some good beer to be drunk. Frankly, I was knackered, and sadly the team were going to play like that as well!
Two coffee's on the 13.45 to the Wiltshire town helped but melancholy set in again when seeing the town of Reading and the towers of Didcot power station, memories of being stuck between the two of them after another signal failure came flooding back.
The horrible No. 7 bus journey to the town where I lived for nearly a decade seemed to take forever but my old house was still standing, though about to be consumed by a huge Leylandii conifer that had grown a lot in the four years since I'd left! Better cut that down before the tenants revolt.
A pint of Arkell's 3B in the Saracen's Head, sitting outside in the warm spring sunshine, was a delight but then I found out the Fishes pub I used to fall into on a Friday night and watch the odd Sunday Sky game, was boarded up with the owner having done a runner! Still, six or seven others remain open, not a bad place for a drink.
Go on, go on, you know you want it, it includes a flashing four leafed clover
Back to the town centre and the small but perfectly formed Glue Pot with it's several real ales on display. Even passing pissed fake Orishmen and women with silly hats on and even sillier fake beards, (well I think they were fake, hard to tell on some Swindon girls), could not fail to raise the spirits and I planned to raise a few. (A few days later a rugby Grand Slam, that would have found out the real Irish in town, and anywhere else for that matter.)
It surprised me to see Summer Lightning on sale, must be brewed all year round, however there were several other beers including 5 real ciders, but I tried a couple of other of Hopback/Downton's finest. The pale guest ale Honey Blonde was a delight and the darker Crop Circle as good. However, they weren't working, I just felt tired without the emotional bit. It was now just before six, maybe food would work.
The Weatherspoons in Swindon, the Savoy, is one of the better ones, at least it usually is but not on St. Patrick's Day. Selling a 2.19 pint of Guinness had done wonders for sales but not for the staff, most who decided they've had enough and gone home leaving a couple of poor students left to look after the now quiet bar. On steak and a drink night I ordered a sirloin and a pint of Bitter and Twisted, a wise choice as it turned out!
Diana Dors, glamorous 50's film star from Swindon, not to be confused with Mark Lamarr, who is from Swindon, but not a film star
Looking up at another honey blonde and local lass, Diana Dors, she would certainly had sent back the piece of meat the size of a postage stamp and a baked potato which was anything but hot! Table 45 was at the back so I couldn't see my plate which had obviously been stuck on the warm plate and forgotten about! After the brilliant meal in Brighton only a week before this was a disappointment to say the least and continued the way I felt, I had predicted this could be a game too far and I truly believed it now.
Of course, it was, and you can read about it, if you really want to, here:
Funny thing football though, someone once said, 3-0 defeat or not. We opened up like a team possessed and if one of the two chances that fell in that first ten minutes had gone in, who knows.
However, the way we attempted to get back from the second chance which left us outnumbered at the back, (great technical skill by Hal Robson-Kanu for the Swindon goal though, I certainly feel a bit bitter he was playing against us, Reading stitching us up there), the tired heal-clip that got them the penalty minutes later, the complete lack of ideas after that, certainly showed a side that needed a break or some new blood, which to Tilly's credit he introduced against Carlisle and was rewarded.
Sadly, it was pointless leaving early, and we certainly left pointless, as the train was after half ten. An earlier train was over an hour late and was now behind the one we all caught anyway, bless FGW.
Reaching Paddington around 23.35 I saw a Shrimper running for a last Circle line train but True Blue's lot went to the Hammersmith & City Line for a trip east and Liverpool Street, me a trip west and home somehow before midnight but thanking all the gods available the next away game was two and a half weeks away.
I'm sure the players felt the same!
Makes some really good beers, Archers Golden is superb, and I wish it the best of luck, but I don't hold out much hope in these tough times.