Dial M for Merthyr

The phone rang at 6. In the morning. The call was coming from Merthyr to get up and get ready. Glamorgan were at Lords and the whole of South Wales seemed on the road. The DMFM crew were set to join them. Around 45 minutes later, the peace of my Cynon Valley haven was shattered by the arrival of our charabanc, whether this mini-bus would reach London seemed doubtful, it seemed to be held together by sellotape. I climbed aboard, all were present, only RTB to be collected at Quakers Yard to make up the nine selected to represent Merthyr Tydfil FC, having the dubious pleasure of delivering us at the home of cricket. The length of the M4 seemed to be full of all manner of transport transporting Glamorgan supporters eastwards, even the sight of two Gloucestershire coaches sparked weird celebrations as cars, vans, mini-buses and coaches tried to flag them down to share in the vast cider lake that was heading towards London. Wingnut had started his sesh at 6.30 am outside the Norton, he was

It's 8.30 a.m. The place, as usual, is the Merthyr Law Courts. The DMFM Crew are once more gathering one by one for what will hopefully be another memorable trip. The destination, The English Capital, for our F.A. Cup tie with the mighty O's of Leyton, E10. The Supporters Club buses are filling up nicely and the sight of about four hundred Merthyr fans queuing up is great. Just like the old days, eh? 9.00 a.m. arrives and our minibus still hasn't turned up along with a couple of the boys ie Jimmy Kranky and Mr Strong. However, we are joined amazingly by Typey sporting two bruised eyes courtesy of the bouncer at the Pitz. 9.30 a.m. and our minibus finally arrives with Mick, Gwynney, Hulby and, as Shaun Ryder would say, Mad Cyril on board. A quick trip back up to Dowlais to collect Mr Strong and the booze from the Miners and we are away, with a quick stop in Treforest to collect P.J. Woodcraft - Welsh Lovespoon maker. The journey up is quiet although the traffic in London is