Unable to attend Pompey's Championship fixture against Nottingham Forest and knowing I would not be at home to catch the commentary or be anywhere near the car, I made plans that would guarantee I was able to stay in touch with events at The City Ground. Little did I know.
Inspired by a recent article from Steve Bone in the Pompey matchday magazine about radios at football matches in the 1970s and 80s I thought I'd take a trip down memory lane and look all cool as I wandered around Gunwharf Quays (as that's where I'd be) shouting out the score, 'oohing and ahhing', giving updates to strangers passing by...but probably pissing most people off.
So, prior to setting out, the choice was simple: use the FM radio available on my mobile phone or dust off the little-used DAB digital radio, a much vaunted but over-rated Christmas present from a couple of years ago.
Ummm.
Using the radio on the mobile would be heavy on the battery, it's a real power-eater – did it have enough? A quick check revealed three bars. Three! How long had it been like that? Dang – it was on three bars all day Friday. No time to charge, dunno where the charger is anyway.
Sadly, despite looking very nice and handy the basics of the digital radio have very rarely worked well: it's a bit reception light, it always seems to have a scanning urge and the 'power on/off switch' is a bit limited too – once it's on, as indicated a by a lovely blue light, the only way to turn it off is by removing the batteries. It isn't the greatest piece of technology to be frank.
Mobile phone it was then! Would it last 90 minutes? I'd have to risk it. But wait, where were its headphones? Think man, think. In the man-drawer of discarded electronic devices, spare wires, cables and plugs? Nope. Think, think, ah! By the computer? Yes, success, I can see them! But oh...they're embedded in a weird wire kluge. I don't have time for this! Unpick, up-and-over, through and around, knit one pearl one...aha, success! Freed at last the headphones emerged, I wrapped them around my fingers into a nice set of tidy loops and pop them into my coat pocket. Easy, job done, I'm prepared, relax.
And you'd think that was that...but no, nothing is that simple.
Things started well. A mate's arrival at The City Ground was announced with a small vibration on the mobile and a picture message view from his seat (see above). Now I was jealous although having said that lunch at Loch Fyne was excellent and afterall I was prepared, relax boy, relax.
At a quarter-to-three I could wait no more, I decided it was time to unveil to the world of designer outlet shopping my direct link to The City Ground, time to catch a bit of the pre-match chat, 90 minutes worth of power? Heck this baby was gonna last 105! Sadly, I was getting ahead of myself.
I pulled out the headphones from my pocket, but somehow they had reverted back to their naturally tangled form. Frustrated I started the unpick procedure again although I don't recall quite as much unpicking the first time, grrrr.
After much unpicking, finally there was success! I plugged them in to the phone, connected the earpieces to my ears and after initially searching under 'applications' in the phone menu I remembered that the radio was under 'music'.
I switched it on or launched it, not sure what the right term is. Fssssssssssssss. Ummm, it needs tuning in, that's easy, click on options, tune channels, done. Yes I do want to save my selection, done. Boom, boom, boom...Radio 1, go up...nope, that's Classic FM, down, down, boom, boom, boom...down, football commentary! Hurray! Here we go, lovely job.
But wait...it's Radio Solent...live from St Marys! Bugger! Re-tune, re-tune...where to? Oh, how I miss The Quay. Where's Express FM? Can't find it. Walk around a bit, get to a better reception area. Re-tune: bugger. Walk, re-tune, bugger. This wasn't going well until finally...there it was the Pompey commentary on Express FM at last. Oh yes, game on!.
I'd actually left the confines of Gunwharf at this point and I was walking back to my car, which was parked in Southsea, tightly gripping on to my precious connection with The City Ground avoiding all sudden head movement just in case I lost reception. Southsea was a bit of a trek admittedly but provided lots of time to listen to the game before dropping off shopping bags and popping into Knight and Lee for a quick visit.
Or so I thought.
In a moment that I can only describe as a schoolboy error I let down my guard, relaxed and was cruelly punished.
It was a bit cold walking along the seafront down past the IOW Ferry Terminal and through in to Old Portsmouth so I decided it was time for the hat, which I retrieved from my right coat pocket, it would fit snugly over the earphones and indeed it did.
I decided that my walking set-up would be complete by popping the phone into my left coat pocket and....Fsssssssssssssss.
Frantically, I tried to retrieve the situation by removing the phone, I squeezed my hand inside the pocket but now it was trapped. The zip was gnarled and twisted, half closed and half open, its teeth biting against the skin of my hand, the wires were caught up in the zip which had decided this was the best time to jam. As I continued to pull at the phone the earphones came out from under the hat and I was left with a tangled mess of dangling wires. Disaster.
After some poor attempts to retrieve the situation (I'm sure the many passers-by thought I was a bit mad as I cursed and swore) I gave in to the inevitable. My attempt to listen to commentary were abandoned and as a consequence the walk back to the car took place at a rapid pace.
I arrived back just in time to hear the half-time score and discover that Pompey were ahead 1-0! I had no idea who scored but I didn't care. Woohoo! A 1-0 lead at The City Ground was something to cherish, something to hold on to, especially against a side that had remained unbeaten at home for so long.
Right, a quick trip in to Palmerston Road, back to the car to listen to the last 15 minutes and a glorious away win!
But alas it wasn't to be.
The last 15 minutes were excruciating, painful to listen to as Pompey fell back deeper and deeper in an attempt to hold off Forest and soak up the pressure. Hold on boys, hold on!
With four minutes of normal time left Ibrahimo Sonko, who by all accounts had played well, conceded an own goal, making it 1-1.
At this point I even had the “well, we'd have taken a point before the game” thought go through my head, but no sooner had I done so than Forest snatched a late winner in added time through a looping, Tudgay header right in front of the travelling fans. Ashdown scrambled backwards but just couldn't get to it.
Pompey's defenders had fallen back ten yards too deep, despite all the experience on the picth. Tudgay's header would never had gone in from 18 yards but from 8 it was simple.
My heart sank. Pompey's players were out on their feet, they had given everything. I whacked the steering wheel in a moment of sheer frustration. FFS!
At the end of the game Steve Cotterill went over to the Pompey fans and applauded them for their magnificent support, over a thousand had made the trip. Was it a goodbye moment? I think not, things might be tough but he's no quitter and the Pompey fans recognise the very difficult circumstances he's operating in.
So, for 86 minutes Pompey had led at The City Ground and a valuable three away points were in the offing. I had heard less than 20 minutes of commentary.
As the chances of victory dissipated, as Pompey's hard work unravelled in those last few minutes, I'm sure I felt my mobile phone do another twist in my pocket for good measure, just to make sure it was truly embedded before it powered itself off.
Such a disappointing end to a day that started with so much promise. I'm going to take the digital radio next time and switch on a few mobile alerts on Twitter.
BlueThruAndThru
