Final Day

My left over coffee pots

I am writing this blog for a second time. My first draft, all four hours work, disappeared from my screen before I could publish it. I am not happy.

Achilles: King George's accolade to the Duke of Wellington

Roma gamblers

It was May 23rd and the last day of the 14/15 premiership season. Sean and I had agreed to have our breakfast in the Cumberland Hotel. Having passed through Cork Airport unacknowledged once again I arrived in London on time at 8.55 am. I took the tube to Hyde Park Corner and walked across the park to meet Sean at the Cumberland. Achilles sword was glistening in the morning sun. Sean and I ate five course each. It was exceptionally good value for money. My 'food baby' as Caitriona would call my stomach was well and truly showing. We walked over to speakers corner. Two Muslim preacher and a buddist were spouting some guff. A few lonely people were listening and questioning them. Nearby a group of Roma gypsies were congregated under a statue of a gryphon. They were playing some kinf of gambling game using dice. I reckoned there were £100 in coins in front of each player. As soon as they saw we were watching the cash disappeared. It was so fast I don't know where it went.
One of the gypsy women came over to us and told us the game was Pachsi or something like that. We high tailed it out of there.

Turkish charity donation

Next we found ourselves next to a large Turkish flag. There were sallow skinned people laying out picnics. We asked what was going on. No one spoke English. They thought we were beggars and started to try to give us food and drink. We politely declined but not before one of the picnicers had forced a bag of something into my hand. They were some kind of nuts and they were warm. Neither I nor Sean had any room to eat them so we fed them to ducks and pigeons.

US Embassy baseball game

We were now in the middle of Hyde Park. We came across the staff of the US embassy playing a game of baseball. One of them asked us if we were on our honeymoon, a passing reference to the Irish referendum passed the day before allowing gay marriage.

Albert, sans leprechauns

 We neared the edge of the park and came across an amazing statue to Queen Victoria's husband Albert. The plinth of the statue was surrounded by smaller statues of figures dressed in the garb of the various parts of what was then the British empire. There were no leprechauns.

I'm not scared..honest

We left the park area and found a secret entrance to the Natural History Museum. This museum is free to enter. They suggest a £5 donation. You can guess at how much Sean and I left. There was no queue at this secret entrance whilst the main entrance was jammed. We spent about 45 minutes in there, 43 of those looking at dinosaurs. Emily would have been proud of her Da's bravery.

Free flags add to the party

When we left the museum we started to make our way towards Fulham Rd and Stamford Bridge. There was a party atmosphere at the ground. Neither Sunderland or Chelsea had anything riding on the game. We chatted with some Sunderland fans as we made our way into the ground. They really are sound football fans.

Fireworks

Sunderland went ahead after about twenty minutes. But we were never in danger. After 30 mins Costa came on for Drogba who was playing his last game for Chelsea. Within minutes we were awarded a penalty and Costa slotted it home even though the keeper guessed right. Remy, who I think is not good enough, scored twice in the second half and before you knew it, we had won the Premiership. The Sunderland fans were fantastic and stayed behind to view the presentation ceremony.

Defoe and other Sunderland players, trapped

After the game Sean and I came across the Sunderland team hemmed in to a small area below the stand, awaiting their bus. In the photo beside Defoe you can see about sixty empty pizza boxes stacked. Yes, pizza. Food of athletes.

Valerie

We passed through the Old Brompton graveyard on our way back to the tube. We went into the little chapel there where Valerie told a little of the history of the graveyard. She remained calm even as she told us of her husbands burial there last year. Sean advised them they needed to put up the price of the snacks they were selling as a fund raising drive. He repriced all the 50p items to £1. He gave them until next August to get the prices up. Valerie and her assistant Florence said they would.

Megan Shea, the mascot on the tube

My New Oyster Card

Sean and I parted company at Earls Court tube station. On the tube there was girl, about ten, all dressed in Chelsea kit accompanied by her parents. I asked her if she  the game. She said she did and that she really enjoyed meeting Hazard and Drogba. Her mum, who was from Belfast, explained she had been the mascot for the day.  I asked how she went about that. The Mum, who is a Chelsea fan, put her name down when she was born, 10 years before. It has taken ten years for her name to come up. They went on about how 'normal' the players, their wives and kids were. They were still on cloud nine. I reflected on how normal I would be if I earned John Terry's £200k a week. When I got to Heathrow I went to the ticket desk of the London Underground. I purchased, for £24, an Oyster card. Now I was well and truly ready for next season. Roll on 15/16

Red in London

As I boarded the Brittany Ferries flagship the Pont Aven in Roscoff on Friday night I was already looking forward to seeing Chelsea play their arch rivals of yesteryear, Manchester United. Breeda, Caitriona and I were traveling back from Spain.
 
We stayed in Bordeaux on Thursday night and travelled up during the day together with our four dogs, Lulu, Belle, Bonnie and new arrival Crosby.


Pont  Aven heads to Cork

We pulled into Cork harbour at ten in the morning after a smooth crossing. Bord Failte would be happy with our fellow travellers. They were predominantly French tourists. My flight to London wasn't until two and the match was scheduled for half five. I had plenty of time in hand.
As usual, no one gave me any flicker of recognition at Cork Airport. The lounge was quiet and the flight left on time.

My rearward facing nightmare

When I landed at Gatwick at three thirty and went straight to the first ticket desk I found to get my train and tube station. The sales assistant at the ticket desk asked me if I came to London often. I explained that I was the once every two to three weeks. She said I would be much better off getting an Oyster card, London Underground's electronic ticket and payment card. She explained how it worked and it became clear that I could save around £6 on each trip. I asked for one straight away. "I don't sell 'em" she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Hmmm! I bought me ticket and headed for the train.
When I got on the carriage I was shocked to find out that all the seats were facing to the rear. I hate traveling facing backwards. I get motion sickness and the thought of 30 minutes looking at where Id been rather than where I was going filled me with dread. I took my seat and sent Sean. My fellow CFC season ticket holder, a text bemoaning my situation but assuring him that I had arrived in London and had already purchased a punnet of grapes.
He text me back with a rendezvous point. He also told me to move to another carriage. I moved to the next carriage. Heaven. Forward facing seats. I sat down, grapes in hand, and relaxed. As we approached London I was shocked to see that the infamous Battersea towers were missing one of the towers. I'm not sure what has happened it. I reflected that this could have been Chelsea's home ground if the Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich had got his way. He was an under-bidder on the property when Nama put it up for sale.


Where's my missing tower

Sean had arranged to meet me at the exit gates of Victoria station. He was there and we headed off to the underground. I told Sean about the Oyster Card options that had been explained to me Gatwick. He laughed and reached into his wallet, not something that happens too often. He pulled a card out of his wallet. He had just bought a brand new shiny Oyster card. He was one step ahead. Sean 1- Eoin-0.
We headed off to Earls Court en route to the match. We had heard that Chelsea were missing their two forwards, Costa and Remy. Man U were missing their defenders Jones and Rojo. We expectantly chatted about how we expected Chelsea to sit back and try to catch Man U on the break. Time would tell.


Grapes and Strawberries

When we arrived we went straight to Marks and Spencer Simply Food to get our lunch consisting of grapes, strawberries and ham slices. Now, where to have our lunch on this sunny afternoon? We chose the perfect spot where we would be able to catch the evening sun and still be close to the ground..... Old Brompton Cemetery. We found a bench and began to tuck-in. Sean had met the Leinster Rugby team at Dublin Airport and we were wondering how they would get on against Toulon. As it happens, they lost, throwing away a very real opportunity to beat Toulon in their own ground. Anyway, back to the Chelsea match.


Where's foxy?

When we finished the grub we started wandering toward the ground. We then saw an amazing sight.....a first for us in Central London. A sly old red/grey fox was ambling aimlessly between the headstones. He was in no great rush and wasn't really to fussed as we approached the area he was in. He then disappeared just as quickly as he appeared.


Closet Man U fans

We went into the ground and took our seats. The match started and there was great excitement in the ground. Chelsea did sit back and conceded possession to Manchester United . Rooney nearly scored after around fifteen minutes. The Manchester United goalkeeper De Gea jumped around as if Rooney had scored and the Manchester United fans jumped around and screamed. Three guys in front of us jumped up with excitement also and then quickly sat down. They were obviously It only dawned on them, and us, that Rooney hadn't scored when Courtois started to place the ball for the subsequent goal kick. The match was panning out just as Sean and I predicted. We joked that Chelsea could pay us £1m each and still save £2m since Mourhino gets £4m a year.
At half time we felt sure that the game would finish a draw or Chelsea would snatch a sneaky winner. Falcao, United's on loan striker, showed some flashes of danger but overall looked out of shape. Kouma, Chelsea's young midfielder man marked the Red's in form mid-fielder Fellaini out  of the match. PFA player of the year Eden Hazard scored 8 minutes into the second half. From then Chelsea were in complete control until the last ten minutes. United brought on former Real Madrid winger Di Maria and put Fellaini up front with Falcao. This made them much more threatening and active but in the end Chelsea were never really threatened. Sean had to go with 3 minutes to go to catch his flight.  He missed nothing much except an outrageous dive by Anders Herrera in an attempt to secure a last minute penalty. Despite the Red players surrounding the referee he didn't relent and the match fizzled out. Chelsea were now 3 points from securing the title for the fourth time in ten years and there was still five games to go.


Van Gaal was pleased

I headed off after the match. As an amazing co-incidence I met two African guys that Sean and I had met on the way in. Met is a little over stated.... walked beside is more like it. What drew our attention to these guys was that they hopped out of the largest Rolls Royce either of us had ever seen. It was huge. One of the guys was clearly the body guard for the other. I asked the boss one what he thought of the game. "It was a very interesting event" he said, his mirror glasses reflecting my face as he looked at his inquisitor. He adopted a body position that suggested I should beetle off pretty quickly. Which is exactly what I did.
My flight back was from Heathrow. Everything went smoothly. The attendant at the Gold Circle Lounge recognised me from earlier visits and let me take a paper when I boarded the plane. Win.
I got back into Cork and went, unrecognised, through the airport. I was home before midnight and watched MotD which Siobhan had recorded for me. I was amazed at the criticism visited on Chelsea about the match. It was a tactical battle which Chelsea won hands down. It was riveting to watch. You could not pick up the brilliance of the match from snippets shown on a highlight programme. Man U manager said that this was United's best performance of the season. Who am I to argue with that level of praise for the game.
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