We’re headed off down the road to Brighton.
There’s nowhere in the Premier League as seaside resorty as Brighton, at least not until Weston get promoted, and we played there on a Bank Holiday last season so it’s only right that this season’s trip should be midweek. That’s not right in a right and proper sort of way, but more in that the bloke who does the fixtures wouldn’t be allowed to give us a decent time to go there twice in a row; it’s not natural.
This is a league game, and if you’ve forgotten what they are, it’s when you play a team home and away and the loser doesn’t get knocked out. Yes, it has been a long time.
Brighton used to play at a horrible ground in front of a handful of disinterested followers. They got evicted, wandered around the south of England like a nomadic tribe and ended up at a newbuild stadium that’s not so much in the middle of nowhere as in the middle of a university. That means it’s the only new stadium in decades built without a KFC/Burger King/McDonalds, a Harvester/Wacky Warehouse and a Pizza Hut/Nando’s on the doorstep.
They’ve discovered lots of new supporters who will undiscover them as soon as they get relegated, which sadly won’t be for some time as they appear to be well-run, ambitious and a few others things that keep getting in our way. Their manager was the youngest-ever in the Premier League, he was Born in the USA and he’s got another couple of passports, which might come in handy soon.
They’ve got someone named James Milner playing for them, which is a coincidence because so did we once and it can’t possibly be the same one because it would be cruel to keep him out this late at his age. Perhaps it’s his son. We’ve got just about everyone fit and raring to go; there’ll probably be a change or three from last Sunday but no matter because whoever’s brought in will be as good as whoever he’s replaced. At kick-off Brighton will be above us. At the final whistle they won’t be.
