The journey back from Wembley was joyous, we had just beaten Everton after a Ł35 million donkey had used his ponytail to score. The coach was full of ale and songs such as "Oh Everton blueshite, oh Everton blue , why don't you win trophies, like Liverpool do?" were being belted out.
Then it happened, the "Ivor's of Bangor" coach came along side our own Barnes travel coach. All hands proceeded to taunt the strange looking people on the Bluenose coach but my gaze was drawn to one individual who could have got a part in the remake of "Deliverance!"
This look said "You may have just put us out of the cup at Wembley, you may have beaten us twice in FA cup finals, you may have beaten us at Maine road in the Mickey Mouse cup, but in a couple of seasons you will realise that we have got farther in the FA cup than you, and you will be distraught. Shocked at how well we have done over the years and all those lifting of trophies will mean nothing."
For a few seconds it was like my world had collapsed, was this savants knowing, cross eyed gaze telling me the truth?
WAS IT FUCKERS LIKE!!
The truth was in the tears of laughter running down my face as the mongrel special headed out to the land of half mast jeans and hairy knuckled women.
UP THE 'POOL