If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to go to a festival, go queue up for an hour, then after queuing once, go and queue again. Then queue some more. Never again…
Luckily for me I got to bed at about midnight as I obviously had the early trip like many up to Wigwam-Wigham Saturday morning.
It’s a struggle to get up for work Monday to Friday but I seemed to wake up even before my alarm went off today.
My round trip to and from Wigham is so disjointed I won’t even talk you through it all. I’m currently on the train to Petersfield whilst typing.
However, I started at Fratton and went up to Petersfield to meet up with the dynamic duo whom I would share driving with. We’d be meeting with three others later.
After eating another horrific breakfast panini, I munched my Ginsters pasty a few hours into the journey which would be me sorted until lunch.
Tolerating Chiv’s moaning about all sorts of shit on the journey up, we stopped at a service station past the M6 toll where there were numerous fans of other clubs, but mostly Pompey.
Our other mates in their car were meeting us at the DW and they encountered Scummers at their pit stop. Take a moment to sit back and laugh that we took more to Wigham than they took to Huddersfield.
I’d do the finally leg of driving heading into the eggchasing town and once we were there and realised the country lanes weren’t taking us in the right direction we changed the postcode from the Latics training ground to their soulless stadium which was only another 10 minutes up the road.
Bizarrely none of the first stewards we encountered managed to point us to the right car park for away fans, maybe it was because they were so hard to understand with their funny accents.
I got a little excited as we pulled up as I could’ve sworn Paul Cook was getting out of his car. I was sharpening my tongue getting ready to hiss at the slithery reptile, however it was just some bald geezer in his Wigan training top.
We circled the empty DW bowl once when we saw Will Grigg, a man who’s song I’ve sung many a time. I had to get a photo.
There’s probably some sort of banter that can be spouted at the fact Wigan still have FA Cup winners t-shirts from 2013 in the club shop available for a small fee, but I couldn’t be arsed to get mouthy on social media – when I had a horrific feeling we were going to get ripped a new one by Cookies new team.
A beer in the pub, and a beer in the ground lubricated my vocal cords ready for what was a pretty decent exchange of chants from both home and away fans. Although I can’t imagine the pie gobblers get that excited every home game.
Speaking of pies, I tried one of the prestigious Chicken Balti pies before we went up and took our seats. It was okay. Very hard to consume with a spork rather than a fork but they’re a weird bunch up North.
Here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Wigan’s loos were pretty decent. Spacious and isolated the urinals were clean and made for a refreshing lash. Hot water flowed and even at half time it wasn’t overly crowded. A solid 7/10.
The Pompey performance as a team again falls well below the toilet ratings unfortunately. Just as a team we failed to click.
Note that Wigan are a very good team and Cook should really get them straight up to the Championship and if he doesn’t, then I hope he gets sacked!
They cut through us like butter at times. Through midfield and balls in behind the back four.
Hate to say it but Evans was poor defensively and the new boy Donohue seems like another player that can only use one foot.
Evans red card reflected his performance, but he shouldn’t let his head drop. I do wish he’d stop flinging himself about though, he’s not a convincing diver.
If it wasn’t for Luke McGee we would have got the spanking a lot of people predicted. Some absolutely incredible saves kept them out.
Lowe was superb going forward, he even absorbed a counter attack single handedly by winning a crunching tackle and super Jacky Whatmough once again was superb.
Overall, we were lucky to get the point in my opinion. I’ve drastically lowered my expectations which isn’t wrong, consolidation is fine by me. Eisner proposed slow and steady so let’s not get carried away with tweeting him demanding more money.
I’m just extremely happy it was Cook’s exiled Chaplin that sank his heart. I hope he’s feeling really shit whilst he drinks his Peroni.
He got the reception he deserved, we can forget Wigham eggchasers until they visit Fratton next year.
A massive shout out to whoever started the chant “Cookie, suck a c***”!
Featured photo: Official PFC