My Mothers Land

My Mothers Land.

Community Shield: Arsenal.

29^th of August, 2020.

Under the circumstances I could not have wished for a better spec; right in front of the TV screen.

I thought – which was my first mistake, that this game was going to be played on the following day. Wrong. Having booked the room in ‘The Twelve Knights’ and subsequently tried to cancel, I was going to make the most of my time.

Getting-up earlyish, I got a grandstand spot in ‘Remos’. Right in front of the café, away from the blustery wind and in front of me lay Aberavon’s long sandy beach. With a crossword open and the sun shining – it was perfect. Already, justifying my decision to come to my ‘bolt-hole’.

I whiled away a few hours there, getting a re-fill, which I had to queue-up for – socially distancing of course – the new watch-word. Glad that I’d claimed my superb seat earlier as costumed cyclists of all colours, descended like a small army – invading the place, chatting about very steep hills and seeing some of their contingent, very conveniently having to stop, half-way up, to take a ‘phone call’. Yeah, right, was their attitude as they speculated as to the validity of the stoppage!

The two tables either side of me were occupied by different people at various times as I almost claimed my seat as my own, like my spot on my sofa at home – woe betide any visitor who plonks their bum down on it (unless it was my late cat – she could get away with murder!!).

One of the ladies, to the left of me observed, ‘It’s like being on a balcony cabin’.

Yes, I concurred, turning my seat straight onto face the ever – expanding sandy beach, as the water receded. She then went onto say, ‘When I told my son we were at Remos, he was gutted’, telling me that her son was in sunny Spain, having paid a grand to suffer stifling, scorching, sweaty, prickly heat.

‘He wanted to be here’ she laughed, in evident admiration of the place which was not far from their house in ‘Cwmavon’ not ‘Carmathen’ which was well to the west. Who could blame her son? This fact had further vindicated my choice to get-away on a very short ‘stay-cation’ – another watch word which has entered the lexicon, due to the catalyst of the previously un-forseen, Covid – 19, a term which none of us heard about last year but will never forget. The added bonus was that being in Aberavon, I would not have to self-isolate much more than I was – as this was almost self-isolation of my own choosing.

So, having finally managed to get off my seat, very, very reluctantly, for if there was no Liverpool to watch then the chances were, I’d have got two more pots of tea and stayed there until the early evening; it was that chillaxing. I did though walk along the beach and then found myself in the equally enticing ‘Franco’s’ owned by the same people and delighted in eating a pie which my stomach is pining for now as much as a lover’s touch, so is it no wonder that the first opportunity I get; I’m going back there! Steak Ale and cheese and the most – crispiest chips you’ll ever eat, rounded off with the added bonus of a boat of gravy – what more could I ask for? Well worth every penny and set me-up for the rest of the day.

So, there I was, at my digs. Pint in hand. Liverpool lined-up in front of my eyes, at an empty Wembley, for the Charity – no Community Shield these days. It made a welcome change to be there as actual League Champions; yes, that’s right, they had finally done it, after 30 – years; won the Title – our Holy Grail. It was a strong line-up to face FA Cup winners Arsenal. The only surprise was the inclusion of Welshman, Neco Williams, for Trent at right-back. Other than that, it was the usual suspects, with Ali in goal, Virg and Gomes and Andy Robbo. Fabs, Milly and Gini were in the middle with Mo, Mane and Bobby up top.

Liverpool started slowly but I really thought that Virg had opened the scoring with a typical header but it was ruled-out. ‘Offside mate’ I heard someone say from another part of the room, after I had banged my fist down on the comfy army chair that I was sitting on. I was embarrassed that I had celebrated too soon. I felt on my own but I wasn’t really as Deano and Johnny had messaged me. It felt strange not being with the lads.

Arsenal took a grip on the game and soon scored. A cracker-jack of a goal too. That’s it with Arsenal. They play tidy, attractive football and I just can’t hate them – not like United, I mean, I even got over that Friday night in ’89 and it was just the quality of their attacking flair, with the likes of Bergkamp and Henry. Fabulous to watch. And this time it was Aubameyang who almost curled the ball into the bottom left-hand corner of Ali’s net, to score a worthy winner of any game.

Liverpool though managed to survive a few scares which should have resulted in Arsenal going at least 2-0 up. We seemed to be over-run in the middle and Klopp made a few subs and tactical changes with Gomes dropping to right-back and Keita coming on with Minamino. We looked better for it and took an ominous grip on the game in the second period, hardly letting Arsenal out of their own half. It was more like the Liverpool we had become accustomed to seeing over the last two years.

A swift move resulted in Mo getting some space inside the area and before we knew it, the ball was in the top left-hand corner of Leno’s net! Dare I celebrate I thought but it was a goal, all day long. It came from Mini – his first for the club and he’d been sharp during pre-season. ‘It’s not offside, is it?’ I sort of shouted so that the anti – Liverpool Brigade could hopefully just about hear me.

Really, Liverpool should have won the game in the intervening period when their tails were up but failed to put any of their chances away as young Rhian Brewster had come on with only a minute to go. He had been quite prolific on – loan at Swansea last season and had impressed one of the fella’s who I had talked to earlier, who was a ‘Jack’ Season Ticket holder. My view is that he should stay at Anfield – just to let the front 3 know that someone else is eagerly breathing down their necks.

By this time, I had been joined by a fellow red. It made a difference. I told him about the goal and how we had been playing. Arsenal in the meantime, could have won the game in normal time as they decided to up their game and also go for it, to avoid the dreaded lottery of penalties.

‘I hate them’ – Deano messaged me, as the game had finished 1-1. What happened to both teams sharing the shield? And so, it was, penalties, with extra-time having been dispensed with. Don’t ask me to name all those who participated. I can recall Mo striking home the first and Fabs and, and, well all I recall after that is Brewster smacking the top right-hand angle of Leno’s goal and thinking that ‘We’ve had it’.

It was left to Aubameyang to score the winning penalty. Having just manged to set myself-up in the Dream Team in work, I hope he scores a few more this coming season to earn me some points, though of course, and most importantly, not to the detriment of my one and only team (lads – Deano and Davie take note!!), Liverpool.

I had time to kill and was not sure what to do with it – especially as I’d had a pint and half of shandy. It was I felt too risky to drive. Maybe a walk would suffice. I wondered how far down the road it was to town, adjacent to the steel works, for I was not only in the land of my mother but also my grand-father, who had worked there many moons ago.

1404.

4/9/20.