Wikio - Top Blogs - Wine and beer The Real Ale Girl: January 2011

Sunday 9 January 2011

Let's all club together

This week, you could call me a football widow. Real Ale Husband had training on Thursday and matches on Friday night, Saturday afternoon and is currenlty out for a Sunday morning match. However, I don't like the term football widow. It implies I'm sitting around weeping at him leaving me alone (well, I only do that occasionally). It gives the impression that he's out having fun while I'm at home oslaing over a hot stove (actually, that was only during the Friday match, and the homemade burgers were bloody lovely.)
Football widow does not suggest the fun that I have as a result of all his running around fields pretending to be a professional footballer and taking it all a bit too seriously.
I am not left behind at all, oh no, because I have discovered THE CLUB.
Occasionally, I think I'll go along and support the lovely South East Athletic boys as they battle, week in, week out, after the holy grail of Bromley and District Football League glory. Occasionally, I make it for the match. Often, I turn up sometime during the second half. However, usually, I scrape into the bar about the same time as the boys emerge from the showers.
The John Roan club house. A place of big screen TVs and piles of kit bags, of geezers who knew my Grandad and sepia team photos from yesteryear. And of ale. Great ale. Even if it seems  to be only me,  Real Ale Husband and occasionally, Real Ale Father-in-law drinking it- apparently lager is more refreshing after hard graft on a muddy pitch. I wouldn' know. But what I do know is that  love this place. I love the ever changing seasonals from Harvey's and Batemans, I love the bargain dinners (Shepherd's pie, chips and beans for £3.50- carb overload, but athletes need sustenance, I suppose). I love the little boys throwing footballs about inside and smashing glasses. And I love the fact they make me feel like I belong there despite often being one of only a couple of women in the place. Maybe its the Grandad connection. Maybe its because I drink their ale and bang on about how good it is. Or maybe it's just because it's a welcoming, opening place, doing a brilliant job of serving the players and WAGS. Although I can't help thinking  probably owe them some sort of membership fee...!