The new wrongly named Millennium was barely upon us and already games were being played throughout the British lsles. For the Mighty Martyrs it was a short trip across the border to Clevedon, for the fans it was a chance to show Welsh dominance over the English. This for me was a game that Jimmy Mullen's boys needed to win to boost morale after being on the wrong end of a seven goal thriller, seven days earlier, against those plastic Welsh bastards Newport County.

For myself and the rest of the DMFM entourage it was our last piss-up of the Christmas festivities. The rendezvous point was to be the Park View for a quick beverage before departure. The Ginger Giant was the first on the scene, although I don't know why because the old man can't drink much these days. He was accompanied by his boy who in two years time will be able to drink more than his old man. By the time Wingnut and l arrived, Wolvsey and Nathan had been joined by Typey, who may I add was a little worse for wear. After a bottle of Bud, the bus had arrived so it was time to set off.

We hadn't got that far (the Swansea Road roundabout, I think) and it was time for Typey first spewing session (you can hardly blame him though after 14 cans and half a bottle of Bacardi the night before). After his visit to the smallest toilet in the world, he quickly grabbed a bag from the shelf above, just in case. The rest of the journey was pretty much the same as most trips with the same old questions of can we win, can Wales qualify for the World Cup, etc.

After an hour & half, we arrived at Hand Park and part two of Typey's spewing sessions. As the rest of the bus made their way to the clubhouse, Typey made his way to the grass, knelt down on all fours and started chucking. Inside the clubhouse (which may 1 add was extremely nice, although absolutely freezing) it was time to consume several more pints before kick-off. The big Ginger Giant was first to buy a round and almost collapsed by the bar. 1 wasn't sure whether this was because it was £2 a pint or just because he's old. After several rounds of the world's worst lager it was time for kick-off.

How did Wingnut get in for a £1 ? The game for me was never that entertaining, but the Mighty Martyrs battled well and went two goals up in the first half with a header from Chris Sloan and a freekick minutes later from Danny Carter. Why couldn't Danny score first though, I had him in the sweep. The Martyrs looked comfortable and could have doubled their half time score, but instead gave Clevedon a life line with 12 minutes left after an error from Thomas. When the final whistle went, the celebrations were similar to that of au FA Cup victory. The players did a lap of honour and the supporters sang and danced on the terraces.

Back in the clubhouse the focus of most male Martyrs fans was solely on the girl playing pool. Unfortunately she was with her boyfriend and unfortunately he didn't smash one Merthyr fan in the face for going over the top and trying to grab her arse (you know who you are). After a few more pints and a dance with the barmaid it was time to head home, or should 1 say the Baili Glas. The bus journey home was a little more entertaining; threats, arguments, sarcasm. enlivening the border crossing back to the motherland. Arrival at the Pearl of the Valleys and another successful border raid over.

Dai Pest


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