It's early, but I'm starting to get the feeling that this blog might be cursed. In the its very short life thus far, it has been supposed to visit two games. And, on the face of it, it has had a 50% success rate. Not great. Even less great when you factor in that of that 50%, the intended game to actual game ratio is precisely 0. Less succesful than John Terry at a wife-swapping party. Unable even to hold a candle to achievements of the most infamous of Mastermind contestants.
But we're getting ahead of ourselves. The day had started well. An early start, a mildly taxing walk through the wilds or otherwise of Menston and Otley (of which elsewhere), and I was set fair for some FA Trophy action at The Ings. Only, I neglected to factor in the cold snap that blighted the north overnight. Games were being called off everywhere, yet for some reason it never occured to me that Guiseley, being immersed somewhat in the Yorkshire Moors, would be affected by this. I must have assumed that some FA Trophy-linked blanket of warmth would have enveloped the ground. I don't know, I can't explain the aberation.
So when I showed up at the ground at 2pm, ready for a pre match pint and a bit of Louis Theroux, it was ominously quiet. No visiting team coach. No big match hub-ub, some say bruhaha. No kids with painted faces. Nothing . Nadda. Just a deserted car park. Curses.
I wondered round for a bit, and stumbled upon what I assume constitutes an announcement board.
So that was me told.
In an eerie repeat of last week's shenanigans, I then trawled the internet to find somewhere else. Liversedge v Thackley? No, wrong side of Bradford. ooh, hang on, Eccleshill v Pontefract. That'll do. It's only 6 miles away, and the NCEL site hasn't called it off. Plan B ahoy!!
It may well be only 6 miles away, but if there are twatting roadworks enroute, and they create a jam that takes you fully 50 minutes to work your way thru, well, that sort of thing would test the patience of a saint. So imagine how happy I was when I got to Plumpton Park, and the scene that greeted me was reminscent of the one I had left behind in Guiseley. Only, they don't have a car park...
I came home. Next week's pointless plan can be seen to the right. Although I will probably abandon this pursuit and take up macrame befoe next weekend.