January 3rd 2010. I had two choices. Stay home, in front of a warm coal fire, finishing off the Christmas cake and watching series 1 of Gavin and Stacey or travel a hundred miles to sit on a hard plastic seat watching football for 90 minutes (plus 15 for half time)in the freezing cold. Of course I chose the football, though I admit I had second thoughts when it began sleeting as we set off. Still, I was prepared. One thermal vest (sleeveless) one thermal vest (full sleeves), one polo neck jumper, one round neck jumper. Leggings. Two pairs of socks. Long boots. Coat, hat, scarf, gloves. Sorted.
At 2.30pm we joined what felt like quite a sizeable posse of Town fans walking down Leeds Road. The pace was brisk, spirits high. West Brom wasn’t a headline-grabbing draw but it was decent enough to make it interesting. The Baggies were an entire division above us and second in their league. They’d never lost away all season, we’d never lost at home. Bring it on.
We did OK. We held our own in the first half, going into the break 0-0. During the second half the Baggies’ experience began to tell. Their moves didn’t break down quite so often; they were more organised. We had our chances but we couldn’t hold on and in the last quarter of an hour we let in two goals.
So we can now concentrate on the league, as they say. Unlike Leeds United who beat Manchester United by a goal to nil this afternoon. Dammit.