There are times when it is just a wonderful thing to be a supporter of Southampton football club. This week is one of them, and so at the risk of being repetitive, here is the story of our triumphant journey into Wales.
Whenever we visit Swansea the weather is always great, and Saturday was no exception. We usually go to the beautiful Mumbles first but we were pressed for time, as Oscar and Phil had been football training. Satnav is a complete boon if the operators are capable of tapping in the correct postcode. I was driving and so Phil was in charge of navigating. The problem was that Satnav did not seem to realise that there is a city called Swansea. It offered us Swanscombe and Swindon, but no Swansea. Only after the fourth attempt did we realise that we had to change the country from England to Wales. That done, we were on course to arrive at the Liberty Stadium by half past one - plenty of time to stop at a services and have a lovely Latte.
Well, it was the worst Latte I have ever had - the barista just didn't seem to know what he was doing, he didn't bang and crash anywhere near enough and we received a luke-warm weak flat white coffee with the smallest spoon ever seen to stir it with. Did we complain? Of course not.
Onwards we went to the great England/Wales divide - the Severn bridge. We still had plenty of time - estimated arrival two o clock, lovely scenery considering we were on the motorway; then we slowed to a standstill and queued for forty five minutes for the privilege of paying to enter Wales. Why charge £6.40 - it is absolutely guaranteed to slow everything up as no one had the right money except us. Now we were cutting it really fine, and it was only by being able to travel at an average speed of eighty five miles per hour that we arrived just as they were kicking off.
The least said about the first half the better - we were completely outplayed. However we cheered up when Bony was sent off, and indeed that did prove a turning point
Whenever we visit Swansea the weather is always great, and Saturday was no exception. We usually go to the beautiful Mumbles first but we were pressed for time, as Oscar and Phil had been football training. Satnav is a complete boon if the operators are capable of tapping in the correct postcode. I was driving and so Phil was in charge of navigating. The problem was that Satnav did not seem to realise that there is a city called Swansea. It offered us Swanscombe and Swindon, but no Swansea. Only after the fourth attempt did we realise that we had to change the country from England to Wales. That done, we were on course to arrive at the Liberty Stadium by half past one - plenty of time to stop at a services and have a lovely Latte.
Well, it was the worst Latte I have ever had - the barista just didn't seem to know what he was doing, he didn't bang and crash anywhere near enough and we received a luke-warm weak flat white coffee with the smallest spoon ever seen to stir it with. Did we complain? Of course not.
Onwards we went to the great England/Wales divide - the Severn bridge. We still had plenty of time - estimated arrival two o clock, lovely scenery considering we were on the motorway; then we slowed to a standstill and queued for forty five minutes for the privilege of paying to enter Wales. Why charge £6.40 - it is absolutely guaranteed to slow everything up as no one had the right money except us. Now we were cutting it really fine, and it was only by being able to travel at an average speed of eighty five miles per hour that we arrived just as they were kicking off.
The least said about the first half the better - we were completely outplayed. However we cheered up when Bony was sent off, and indeed that did prove a turning point
Swansea supporters are very passionate and very loud. When they sing Land of Our Fathers it does send a shiver down the spine. However, there is one of them that I would find it very difficult to sit next to week after week, and that is the one with the drum. How on earth they stand it I don't know. Luckily he is one of those people that leaves early to get his half time drink and comes back late.
During the second half Southampton were the dominant team, and there were scenes of jubilation when Wanyama scored.
During the second half Southampton were the dominant team, and there were scenes of jubilation when Wanyama scored.
Southampton supporters come from all over the place, and they are happy to advertise the fact - Weymouth Saints and Isle of Wight Saints are well established groups of supporters. However I think this particular group get the prize for being the cheekiest:
So, another successful awayday and now for something to eat. The Liberty stadium is set in a shopping centre that has a number of restaurants so we went for Ben and Jerry's. The latte here was just right, even down to the length of the spoon.
There is a certain feeling of wellbeing that can only be had when driving back from an away game that your team has won. Tuning into the phone-in and listening to the disgruntled supporters of other teams is entertaining, and the icing on the cake was provided when the Southampton supporter from the Isle of Wight berated Robbie Savage for predicting at the start of the season that we would be relegated. He ungraciously accepted that perhaps he had been wrong and maybe we would finish in the top half of the division. Still just for this week we will bask in the glory of being second in the premiership table.