Gills 1 - Scunthorpe 3

And so welcome to Priestfield to the only other team in the football league with a swear word cunningly hidden within it... mind you some of the abuse our fans wanted to vent yesterday meant that Gillingham were fairly close to being included into this list. We were poor. Weak. Woeful.

It was cold but bright and the trains were running fine. I had a productive morning before I left for the 1.30pm train. But the afternoon held no joy.

Two blokes behind us - a son (late 30's) and his dad were sat behind us talking about the kids, the grand children, the wife, the sister, the fact that being at the football together was their idea of a perfect afternoon - blah blah blah blah. So much of a perfect afternoon that the son went to make a call and missed the Gills goal (thanks Justin I had forgotten what cheering wildly at going ahead felt like) and then the father went for a half time pie and missed the equaliser. They were gone all over half time and returned 10 minutes into the second half. I kept getting a toe up my bum and at one point I really thought they were auditoining for the Trisha show.

'I think being rich would ruin me.', ' Yeah I know what you mean, I mean what could be better than this?' , 'that said if I did win some money I'd set up this, do that blah blah blah' (With any luck go and support Chelsea who they obviously would much rather have been watching.) Anyway so ideal was their afternoon, that they left 10 mins pre the end. Now frankly I was relieved, but I have real troubles understanding why grown men come to live football,(ok live-ish, more precisely non armchair bound) talk up the game/experience/bonding etc and then fail to watch any of the game or indeed have any fundamental grasp of what is going on in front of them. They cheered for the Blue Boys when the Irons had the ball and whenever the ref blew his whistle he was a w*****. Anyway I think at the heart of their enjoyment was the great cover story that the whole afternoon gave them in order to have a few beers.... Men - start acting like it.... Stand up for yourself, just put your cap on and go for a pint, talk about the family there - but don't sit behind me and ruin my afternoon. I can barely cope with the team driving me to despair without two nit wits talking dross for 80 mins.

Anyway the Gills then conceded two more goals. Each player failed to acknowledge the vague noise the fans had made all match, and the chorus of Boo's at the end was unlike anything I heard before. Crowd just over 6,000 and with weather like this many will start to think twice about coming. Did have an idea for a fanzine column - but its gone now - oh no I was going to call it 'View from the Sink'. Play up the feminine bit plus the possible drop we face.

And so to my evening....