And so derby day finally dawned to bright sunshine & a frost thick enough to leave even the most optimistic to have a fear of a postponement, thankfully the sunshine gave the pitch ample time to thaw out but the game would ultimately give us little to warm us up on a bitterly cold afternoon.
I arrived in Prestwich far too early to contemplate drinking (not least as there were no pubs open) so headed to a refined tea-room (the kind you could only find in a cultural hot-bed like Prestwich) for a smoked salmon & cream-cheese bagel with a mug of mocha. Possibly the most sedate opening to a day at the rugby ever as I sat there contemplating the team selection as Vivaldi & Mahler were piped through the tea-rooms.
Soon enough the sound of 12 bells from the church down the road led me to drain the remainder of my coffee & head down to the church (Inn of course) to give praise to the mighty Guinness. A pleasant afternoon was spent in arguably Prestwich's finest pub as we looked forward to thrashing our city neighbours & digested the disappointing blow that a home-sick James Jimenez had left us after an impressive opening with the club. On discovering that the jukebox contained every single top 40 hit since the 1940's we pumped £ after £ into it. The only disappointment it provided us with was when we discovered that both "Back Home" & "Ally's Tartan Army" were both 'currently unavailable'. A small compensation was finding "Head Over Heels" by Kevin Keegan.
With kick-off approaching a fleet of taxis were ordered for the journey to Whitefield & having arrived in good time we decided to join the masses of reds outside the Parkfield for one last beer before heading off to Park Lane to watch the match. Quite frankly it was more of the same, we weren't impressive but we didn't have to be, In Jimenez's absence, JT switched into the centres & had a decent game, bagging a hat-trick into the bargain. Having only led by 18-4 at half-time the 2nd half was more convincing but we still bombed some great chances to really rub Swinton's noses into it.
The main fun during the game was to be had with some of the songs aimed at Swinton with the 2 faves being "YOU'RE Salford til you die" & "Take me home, Station Rd, to the place, where I belong, a 3 bed semi, with an en-suite, take me home, Station Rd" with "Malcolm White is a rugby genius" up there too. Poor Jeff (an occasional 5-a-side team mate) got a lot of stick as well as he headed in front of us at the start of the 2nd half to take up his place at the scoreboard. "We don't want your Big Issue" & "I predict a shower" were lustily sung in his direction together with the chorus of "Tramp" by Otis Redding & Carla Thomas.
Post game we headed up to the bar in the ground for a passionate sing off with the Swinton fans who in all truth had not covered themselves in glory during the game. They were behind their team for the full 80 but reports from Salford fans stood in the vicinity talked of racist abuse aimed at JT, pathetic. The bar staff seemed a bit worried by the chanting (I suppose a rugby union ground wouldn't be used to a crowd though) & worriedly called time at the bar so we headed up to the Parkfield to pick over the bones of the game over our £3+ pints.
Taxi's were ordered to take us to the Church but on arriving we noticed that the Church was shut! We quickly ran back to the taxi asking him to take us to the Height. He said that as he'd cleared we'd have to order another, which we did. There followed a 15 minute wait in the freezing cold when lo & behold the same driver comes & picks us up! Back at the Waggon we had a few more beers before another cab to the Tavern where me, Walshy, Solly & Deano spent a period of time (I was absolutely ruined by this point so it may have been an hour or it may have been 3) before I headed home to a distinctly frosty reception (& no it wasn't the weather) having said that I wouldn't be home late at some point earlier.
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