View From The Dolan: Back Home With A Win

Ben talks us through Reading’s belated but victorious return to home league action, as the Royals ran out 3-0 winners over Cambridge United.

Back to it then. A mere 51 hours since I was last in the Whitley Bowl, I was back. This time though, I was actually home. Reunited with The Dolan and my seat and the empty vessel of a stand it’s become in recent times.

One day, it will be full once again and I’ll complain that they’ve sold out of all the things I don’t need on the concourse (like Haribo - who even eats that trash?!). Until that day comes, I will continue to complain about it being empty.

It’s wrong to say I wasn’t looking forward to the game: I was. But I needed a perk up pre-game, which is exactly why I went to Reading services eastbound. I decided to use the drive-through of a popular coffee brand to collect my cappuccino and mince pie (side note: if you like mince pies, seriously do it properly and get one from Costa. It’s not a pie as such, more like a tart. Well, it is a tart. It’s great).

As I approached the forecourt with confidence, a thought hit me hard like a Year 10 pupil at 9pm on a midweek evening who’d suddenly remembered they needed ingredients for home economics class the next day: what if, and hear me out, I gave myself a challenge to do all of my Christmas shopping at the services themselves?

I’d rock up on December 23 with a credit card, a bag for life and heart full of Christmas cheer and blitz the place, buying everyone I semi-liked a present from there? If nothing else, it would be a bloody great story in years to come and as everyone knows, those services are bloody special. “Balls to it,” I whispered to myself, “I’m going to do it.”

As I left the station (the services, not a train one), I pondered my self-appointed challenge before taking a gentle sip of my warm (but not boiling) beverage, found fifth gear and rolled the old (new) metal hog (Cupra) towards RG2.

The team news wasn’t hugely controversial. I’d have probably gone for Harvey Knibbs but, with his dicky knee, it made sense to have him nestled on the bench. Other than that, nothing to moan about pre-game. The crowd filtered in slowly and calmly and seemed to listen contentedly to the new playlist, curated by mega band The Amazons.

And on a completely unrelated note, Matt from The Amazons - who I just casually mentioned - appears on episode 399 of The Tilehurst End podcast, which you can download wherever you get your podcasts from. And if you don’t want to, that’s fine too. In fact, it’s so fine, it’s cool. Up to you. Just wanted to give you the option.

As the game approached kick-off, I swigged the last of my coffee, did my coat up, rubbed my eye, checked my pocket to see if I had some chewing gum, rubbed my eye again, did my pocket that had my car key in it up, waved to my friend Ryan on the pitch, looked sad when he didn’t wave back, waved again just in case, gave up waving to him, rubbed my nose, listened to local premium band The Amazons’ smash hit “Black Magic”, clapped the players, rubbed my eye again (it was really itchy), watched a man remove what I think were hob nobs from a small Tupperware box, coughed mildly, then sat down.

We were peppering them early doors with a nice selection box of shots. I felt we should have been 1-0 up inside the first 20 minutes but some wayward shooting put paid to that idea. And then nothing really happened. It got progressively colder and it was evident that the players were tired from Sunday. No excuse of course, it is what it is and all that, but still tricky viewing.

At half-time I wandered down to the toilets and had to use the cubicle (the troughs were full). The overall condition of them was grim: rust, graffiti, duck-taped pipes. I’ve said it before, but basic areas of the stadium are in desperate need of some care and sprucing up and pretty urgently. Of course, we all know about the rhino in the room, but even so it just goes to highlight, quite literally, the neglect the club has had to endure.

By the start of the second period, I couldn’t feel my nose or my ears. It was probably only two or three degrees but it felt a lot colder than that.

We started the final 45 well, scoring early on through Lewis Wing. His second however was a proper corker and just adds to his portfolio of smashers this season. You’d struggle to find worse teams than Cambridge United currently who were devoid of confidence and ability, but we handled the latter part of the game well with some delicious and hilarious “oles” chucked in by our fans every time we passed the ball between us. Without sounding like a strict parent, it’s important we enjoy these times and appreciate what this team is currently achieving.

I made the decision to leave on 86 minutes, largely because I wanted to see if my knees could still bend at the joints. They could and I was able to make it down the aisle and towards my car without the need for any assistance, which was pleasing.

Up to sixth with the very real possibility of getting to 5pm on Saturday in third place, providing we win and other results land in our lap. And why not? We bloody deserve it.

Until next time.