| The Warky Championship Report 2025/26: Birmingham City (A) 12:53 - Aug 10 with 575 views | Warkystache |
"Yer bleedin' wot?" asked Tel. "Birminum on a Frydee nite? You mad or summink?"
Welcome back to a new season and a new Warky Report. Every Sunday (Unless we're playing Sunday, in which case, like next Sunday, it'll be the following Wednesday. Probably) I'll be doing the usual. Mainly not reporting much on the game, keeping you abreast of the ins and outs of the Terries and my life. To a point. Too much information is too much, innit?
Terry is fine. He's working as a driver for a local garden centre. Although, for how much longer is a moot point. They're having retail "issues" at present. The owner is a nice chap called Graham, in his fifties, bit of an Essex Barrow Boy type, smokes B&H Bright, coughs sound like a plastic drum half-filled with runny porridge being vigorously dropped. Supports Tottenham, although hasn't been since the '91 Cup Final. "Expensive innit?" he half-apologised when Tel introduced him. Business hasn't been booming recently, which is unusual for a garden centre at this time of year, but then it's less about plants and more about 'stock engagement" apparently.
We had a pint last Wednesday as Tel had a day off and I unexpectedly came home early following a training event at work, which started at 10am and ended when they called lunch at 1pm 'to allow the trainers to get home'. One came from Lichfield and the other from Swansea. The Swansea one was a Swans fan. He was delighted to get Burgess from us on a free. Reckoned they'd needed a regular centre-half for ages. I smiled a sh**-eating grin as I rated Burgess. He seemed a lot less gung-ho than Greaves and a bit more consistent than Woolfy. They lost yesterday. 1-0. Away to Boro. Might be a settling-in period though eh? Like Norwich seem to be having....
Anyway, Tel's fine. He doesn't need the money, really, although they've still not sold the place in Halstead. The other place they liked in Bradfield has been taken because of this, so they're still looking. Mrs Tel, hair now changed courtesy of a pixie style cut (this sounds horrible, but she reminds me a bit of a woman we had at work, whose cancer treatment necessitated her wearing a wig in exactly the same kind of style. Still, I haven't told her that. Obviously) with blonde and platinum tints, is still rocking her usual style of punk band T-Shirt (The Clash) with Indigo Levi's and a grey calf leather jacket. Still smells like a leak in the perfume vat at Thierry Mugler's factory. Still a regular at The Lifehouse in Thorpe-le-Soken with her sister-in-law, Sandy. They're on holiday, Sandy and Tony, in Niagara. "Seein' them falls in't'they?" said Tel. Mrs Tel nodded demurely and sipped her diet coke.
She's looking very trim. She told me her workout routine with the eyes of one of the Manson Family when provided stimulants by Charlie. She's fallen hard for all this. She lifted her T-shirt to reveal the bottoms of voluptuous tanned boobs in a black bra as she showed me her flat stomach. I nodded, dumbfounded. She's 64.
So anyway, that's them. We're meeting on Friday for a curry. Tel's next day off and he's taking Mrs Tel to Freeport after she's been swimming.
The Friday just gone was a warm one in Birmingham. Clouds were gathering as I left work at five to walk the short distance to my hotel for the night, The Jurys Inn in Broad Street. I carried an overnight bag of two spare pairs of pants, a spare shirt and T-Shirt I'd had hanging up in my office to avoid looking like I'd been dragged through the proverbial hedge. Two pairs of jeans. Toothbrush, toothpaste and an old flannel that I'd meant to chuck out but which still had enough texture on it to be workable. I left it in the room when I went on Saturday. I bet it's been chucked now.
I checked in on my work credit card as I was planning to do some overtime on Saturday and they have preferential rates for my employer. A room which should have cost £139 a night was actually £78. Bog standard room at the end of a corridor, double bed, view of the Cattle Market, funny indelible stain on the carpet near the bed. Breakfast was chucked in for free. And I made it for 7.30am! It was alright as well.
Back out after a shower, remembering to put the wet towel on the hot towel rail thingy. Met my colleagues who presented me with much ceremony their spare season ticket for one of their mates who was on holiday in Gran Canaria. They wore their blue home shirts which looked very much like ours from a distance. Quick couple in the Wetherspoons, then on to the Shakespeare Bar for another few and then to some random home fans pub near St Andrews. We had a Korean Fried Chicken on the way. It burnt my mouth.
I'd been advised not to talk or cheer too much, especially if the Town went two or three up. When I reached my seat, I understood why. They were dyed in the wool Brummies, the lot of them. Several made disparaging, jokey remarks about the Town, which were laughed at by everyone around me. I pretended to read the programme. The atmosphere rose as kick-off approached. It became vaguely menacing rather than jolly. The bloke sat in front of me said, as we'd previously chatted about where I was from (I said Northampton because anywhere else would've been dangerously Ipswich territory) "Yur'll see us put in a f**king shift now" and I laughed and said "Alroight less see" in my approximation of a more-Midland-less-Suffolk accent. Which ended up vaguely Aussie Irish. But he was too coked up or pissed or mental to notice. He actually hugged me when Birmingham scored. The fat, sweaty, drug-addled c***.
It became apparent that we were dirty inbred country bumpkins, entitled by our useless time in the Premier. We certainly played terribly. But then Brum were just kick and rush merchants. I noticed a lot of their players went down with cramp as the game wore on. Fitness not as good. But for sheer in-yer-face terrier-like hounding, they won that bit easy. We looked a bit non-plussed by it all. Added to that, Clarke and Taylor looked a bit overwhelmed. Our passing was awful for a while. Then we seemed to get a grip and looked by far the better team.
They celebrated the disallowed goal, becoming ferociously gimp-eyed and spittle-flecked when it was disallowed, even though the foul on Greaves was clear as day. The worst bit though was our penalty. I missed the incident itself as I was the other side of that end, but I saw the bottles being thrown and I saw Chaplin slapped by a cowardly fat sh**e who tried to run off when the stewards eventually intervened and was then treated like a God by the massed ranks. Those who still berated the ref, went rather purpley-blue as though cardiac seizures were imminent.
We stayed behind to let the indignant masses leave at the whistle. The bloke in front clocked my sober expression and wished me luck, a huge tattooed paw swinging in my face as I grabbed it and stood up to acknowledge him. "We'll bluedee piss this division" he said, confidence regained so that the cocky smirk was now no longer a faded memory. With that he went, the arse of his jeans hanging like Droopy's jowls, his back a sodden mass of blue shirt.
Got back to the City Centre with three very annoyed Brums. We didn't talk much about the game. They were shattered. They knew that I knew we'd been lucky, and that was enough. Next week at work shouldn't be as bad as it might have been had we not equalised. Beers were therefore perfunctory and it wasn't a late night. They weren't planning overtime the next day. Just returning to their two-bedroom flats or their three bedroom Town Houses in the suburbs of our Second City. Their wives, some of whom had got a baby sitter and spent the evening shopping in the late-night stores in the city, would be home by now. They had a couple and made their excuses and left me one by one to sit and be vaguely pleased that we'd escaped with a point from this utter madhouse.
The overtime? Well, I did 10am til 2pm yesterday. It was OK. A smattering of Wolves and Coventry fans came in. The Coventry went at 1pm for their game v Hull, confident and cocky. Shame they only drew 0-0.
Next Sunday will hopefully be more congenial, eh? |  |
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| The Warky Championship Report 2025/26: Birmingham City (A) on 13:35 - Aug 10 with 428 views | SitfcB |
The Coventry one wants to get his timings right, they kicked off at 12:30!  |  |
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| The Warky Championship Report 2025/26: Birmingham City (A) on 13:45 - Aug 10 with 405 views | Warkystache |
| The Warky Championship Report 2025/26: Birmingham City (A) on 13:35 - Aug 10 by SitfcB |
The Coventry one wants to get his timings right, they kicked off at 12:30! |
Pffft. They thought it was 3pm!! Oh thanks Sitters. That'll make Monday a bit more entertaining! | |
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| The Warky Championship Report 2025/26: Birmingham City (A) on 14:08 - Aug 10 with 349 views | oldburian |
Have you and Tel tried The Riverside Spice in Earls Cole? Best curry shop around. |  | | |
| The Warky Championship Report 2025/26: Birmingham City (A) on 17:34 - Aug 10 with 175 views | Warkystache |
| The Warky Championship Report 2025/26: Birmingham City (A) on 14:08 - Aug 10 by oldburian |
Have you and Tel tried The Riverside Spice in Earls Cole? Best curry shop around. |
No but we're looking for somewhere nearer Halstead Oldburian, so many thanks for the recommendation!! | |
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| The Warky Championship Report 2025/26: Birmingham City (A) on 19:55 - Aug 10 with 50 views | tcblue |
Robin Askwith goes to the footy | | | |
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