Big Bald Baz’s Beauty Buries Bury - Part 2

By: Chris Smith
Date: 22/08/2009

WHERE was I? Oh yes, I think we kicked off at some point, the team that is, not us, so yah boo sucks to any spies reading this. (I don’t trust my reader). Town actually had a chance very early on and had more play in the first half than the second.

The fans and band were in excellent voice, apart from the "Grimsby ‘til I die" chant. I hate anything that reminds me of Pompey games given our record down there, and it was their song. I’d rather buy the entire Scumthorpe away support drinks all night than join in. Mind you, cheap round.

"Mike Newell’s blahhharmeh" featured strongly as usual and we were delighted to find that instead of doing the GTFC, bit we could fit in *****’s still a **** (beep). (Just to explain, when driving to and from games, we have sung naughty songs about ex-players and cr*p refs and beeped the car horn in tune). To be fair, we did give it large to the GTFC and acquitted ourselves well. We were determined to enjoy this one. Talking of officials, it was very funny to hear a chant of "We always get cr*p refs" as one decision after another went against us. A young couple were also serenaded to "Get a room, get a room, get a room..." and "We can see you sneaking out". Oh bless. I have to admit I was baffled by the "Green Army" chants.

I suppose I’d better mention the game and Town grew in confidence the longer we didn’t concede. Then, we scored. It had an air of inevitability about it as the ball came over in front of the Bury goal. Time seemed to stand still as Baz rose, seemingly unchallenged, to head home. To my eyes, the ball just determinedly put itself there and waited, as if to say, "Go on, you know you want to". Cue the terrace boogie. There is plenty of room between the seats at Gigg Lane, but we sit at the end of the aisle anyway so we can go absolutely mental in loads of space. I didn’t do badly at pogoing for someone three years from a Saga brochure. Fantastic! Cue also much more singing whilst we defended for most of the rest of the first half so that half-time was a relief.

Of course, one of Town’s weaknesses has been conceding early in the second half. We negotiated the first few minutes well enough, but it was clear that we were going to come under pressure. Oddly enough, as at Bury last season, I felt that we were going to do it. We certainly weren’t helped by the officials. We did our bit by shouting that the Bury players were "laughing at you, ref". As things do, it became exaggerated to "he’s having hysterics at you" and then "he’s got a blog on you, the ref’s still a ****, laugh out loud!" Not that he would have heard us, but it cheered us up. And the fans weren’t to be denied. Gone was our edginess of earlier games. A few substitutions were made which made Gary ask whether we would be playing 3-5-2. I said why we don’t play 5-7-0-5, but there was no reply. (1970s that one)

We were all angered when a blatant handball was missed in their penalty area. I say blatant, because even I saw it. With the officials missing this, our chance to make the game safe was gone. Did it dishearten us? No. Well, a little bit. Four minutes of time added on was announced although we spent most of that time in their half. Could we hang on? The band played the "der der der der der der der GRIMSBY!" and I was bouncing up and down like the others before the final whistle went. What a relief and cue another terrace boogie. Great day out and a sing-song on the way out. Even Ado was smiling. If there’d been horses, they would have been smiling as well, for those of you who remember the 1981 Royal Wedding.

The Bury fans must think we are like that all the time: loud away support, a band and we win. This is becoming a good ground for me. It is my fourth visit in six seasons and I’ve seen three wins, so if you want to pay for me to go next year when we both go up, I’m happy to take contributions.

It was a happy drive back, punctuated with excited phone calls and the good news that the anklet wearers were still getting turned over and a hammering for Scunny by the Tesco carrier bags. Shame about the mudrats, but a near perfect day. In celebration of the win, we decided to get a big bag of Starburst sweets when filling up at Hartshead Moor, and scoffed the lot before we hit the M180. It was tight at one point but we came through, and I confidently expect to lose a tooth tonight.

Why did I book that holiday in Malta? After all, we are going to beat Aldershot and Port Fail aren’t we? Good news for you, I’ve missed the biggest win of the season for two years on the spin doing my bit for the Mediterranean economy...

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