How I had been waiting for this moment, ever since I saw the advertisement!
There was no time for anticipation; the smell was so lovely that I simply couldn't wait to get started. I pressed my face into the surface, and hungrily ran my tongue and mouth around the rim and sides, in a rhythmic motion. Occasionally a satisfied "Mmm" escaped my mouth, but I quickly returned to the task in hand. Nothing else mattered, not until I had finished sucking up and swallowing all the delicious juices. All this ecstasy for just £2...
There's no doubt at all in my mind; that steak-and-ale pie at Ewood Park, a special deal arranged between the club and the local brewery, was the greatest pie I've ever had at a football ground, even if the foil container meant eating every last morsel required a bit of dexterity. (What did you think I was writing about?)
The football was rather good as well.
It was four months since my last venture south to watch decent football - currently the SPL's fare cannot be described as "decent" - and I was not disappointed. Blackburn-Blackpool might not jump off the fixture list...my companion for the day took some persuading...but I had high hopes. Both teams are embroiled in a relegation battle. Rovers, as the home side, were obliged to give it a go, whilst the word "cagey" is not in Blackpool's vocabulary (nor, however, is the phrase "competent defending"). An open, high-scoring game was anticipated; anything else would lead to foul looks from Allan as he drove us back up the M6 in the evening.
The first ingredient, ideally, is a goal for the visitors, duly provided by Luke
Varney, who nipped in to divert a free kick into the net from close range, and ran off past the linesman and up the sideline in celebration...before looking back to see the most belated offside flag in the history of the world. I've seen late offside flags, but never one so late that the player has run back past the linesman towards the halfway line before the decision (though TV showed that Varney was offside, and it was the right call).
But Blackpool got their goal anyway, only a few minutes later, though it was the home side's turn to feel aggrieved. I've often wondered why, when players are tackled late just after crossing or shooting, a foul is rarely given, so I was impressed that Howard Webb penalised Ryan Nelsen for diving in just after Gary Taylor-Fletcher had sliced a cross - until Match Of The Day pictures later showed that there was pretty much no contact. With no obvious foul, no obvious appeal, and the whistle drowned out by the jeers for the rubbish cross, most of the home fans didn't realise the penalty had been given until Charlie Adam strode up to place the ball on the spot.
Ah, "Chic" Adam, as one of my Rangers-supporting mates always calls him. Back in 2006 I remember him stuck out on the left touchline at Inverness, looking disinterested (and not a little chubby), nestling comfortably in the pocket of our right back as Paul Le Guen's side lurched to an embarrassing defeat. More than four years one, he's probably going to sign for a very good team in the summer. Certainly he dispatched the penalty with aplomb, and five minutes later, for good measure, doubled his tally with a 20 yard free kick which the word "glorious" doesn't quite do justice. Considering I was sat in the Blackburn end, I was grateful that my brain overruled my legs and prevented me leaping to my feet, and that my shout of "Oh my god!" was pretty non-comittal.
You think things were bad for Blackburn? Varney had another effort disallowed for offside, again correctly and this time a damn sight quicker. The booing at half-time doesn't quite compare to the cacophony I once heard after a Newcastle defeat at St. James' Park, but it was pretty close. But there are some certainties in life - death, taxes, and Blackpool conceding away from home. It was apt that the Congolese defender Chris Samba - less a centre-back, more a colossus - and the nippy Canadian winger Junior Hoilett got the goals that earned a point, for they were the only men in blue-and-white who looked like they truly cared. Both strikes owed something to the inadequacies of Blackpool's Ghanian goalkeeper Richard Kingson, who looked allergic to high balls flung into the box such was his inability to deal with them. Wikipedia lists his height as six feet exactly, yet he reminded this writer of the old quip about former Celtic goalie Rab Douglas - "Six feet four standing still,
five feet four on crosses".
Kingson's calamitous keeping cost his side two valuable points and one wonders if, even with five home games left to play, that Blackpool might rue not winning this game. Blackburn's comeback, meanwhile, merely glosses over some glaring deficiencies in organization, creativity and, blatantly, team spirit. Most neutrals would like to see them relegated after their horrendous treatment of Sam Allardyce, and they might yet get their wish - for this writer it will be three from Blackpool, Blackburn, Birmingham and Wigan who will drop through the trap door at the end of May.
Four goals, two disallowed goals, a dodgy penalty, two efforts off the woodwork and a seat within 10 yards of Ian Better-Than-Jesus Holloway. And the greatest pie ever. You can't ask for more than that.
L.
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