The day out that nearly wasn't

Big day out today. We had tickets to see the All Blacks v The Barbarians at Twickenham, so much excitement at home this morning. As we were walking up to the ground, OH gave me my ticket and put his back into his pocket. He threw away the ticket-size confirmation stub that comes with the tickets. We push on through the crowds and as we approach the gate, OH gets his ticket out and swears. Very loudly. He was holding in his hand the ticket-size confirmation stub. His ticket is languishing in a bin some 1/2 mile away from the ground. So we turn around and fight our way back through the hordes to try and find the right plastic bag out of the hundreds that they hang up on the route. Do you know, we found it! Stuck to a container that had once held mushy peas so it was a bit green but at £53 a ticket, he didn't really care!



So in we go and find our seats and get settled. Now the seats at Twickenham are tiny and leg room is fine for a five year old but not so much fun for adults. Especially the 6'6" man behind me who had to keep apologising for kneeing me in the head. And the 6', 16st man sitting next to me who had the pockets of his coat stuffed to the brim with stuff that kept digging in my leg. I hate being that close to strangers.



One of the things you can buy on the way to the ground is a "ref-link". It's a small personal radio thingy that links you directly to the ref's microphone so you can hear what he is saying and the game consequently makes much more sense. These ref-links are only meant to last for the duration of one match but you can usually use them for 2 or 3 if you're lucky. So being the cheapskates that we are (they cost a fiver a time) we took along one that we bought last time we went to Twickers about 18 months ago. Except that the powers that be seem to have twigged onto this and they've changed the frequency so our ref-link didn't work. Not that that seemed to matter too much because the two guys sitting behind us gave us quite a good running commentary. Until it became obvious that they didn't have a clue what they were talking about and weren't exactly paying too much attention to the game as they were talking too much. Still, they redeemed themselves somewhat when the they said they quite fancied Wales for the 6 Nations this year. I forgave them much after that.



The nice thing about rugby matches is that there is rarely any violence in the crowds. It doesn't matter which teams are playing or who has won, there's always a friendly atmosphere. Once the game is over and you've made your way down the zillion steps, you can pootle out of the ground out of whichever gate takes your fancy with very little hassle. People spread out so there's never a queue to get out. However, some bright spark somewhere has decided that the crowds need controlling. So having descended the steps tonight, we're met with a solid wall of people trying to get out of the same gate. I wouldn't have minded but the gate not 10 yards from the one we were being shoe-horned out of was completely empty! I asked one of the policeman why we couldn't go out of that gate and was told that "we have to keep the crowds separated". Why? "Beacuse that's what we've been told to do". Oh, OK. The consequence of course is that those of us who have ground to a halt are starting to get somewhat peeved. You can easily see how tempers could flare and violence break out. Smart move bright spark.