Were you his wingman?
No, just a victim of a conspiracy.
Back in the deep dark distant past (1983) when I was a squaddie, I didn't support any particular team but, as I hail from Kent, I used to go to Priestfield Stadium and watch Gillingham.
Whilst in the Army I got to writing to a Top Bird from Swindon.
Aforementioned Top Bird from Swindon was a season ticket holding stalker. As a starry eyed teenager she used to wait after games to get photographs and autographs of all the players. Anyhoo, whilst on a 3 week leave period from Northern Ireland, she took me to the footie and we stood amongst the faithful, in the Town End. Top Bird from Swindon’s friends, having learned that I occasionally visited the Gills ripped the shit out of me. As time passed, I continued to attend the County Ground during leave and Top Bird from Swindon was promoted to Top Wife from Swindon. Friends of Top Wife from Swindon continued to rip the shit out of me as we enjoyed games.
This continued and, in 1985, whilst Top Wife from Swindon and I were on leave from Gibraltar for a month, we renewed our relationship with the shit ripping Town Enders who, at our first game were espousing the goal scoring wonder that was Mr David Bamber. By the end of the second game of 3 that we could make that leave, Bamber had yet to score so I turned the Shit Rippers and made a vow. I vowed that at the exact moment Mr David Bamber scored a goal at a game Top Wife from Swindon and I were in attendance at, I would become an official, dyed in the wool Town fan.
Some months later, whilst on leave from Gibraltar again, we were at the County Ground, enjoying banter with the shit rippers when lo and behold, during a scramble in the 16 yard box at the Town End, the ball scooted out towards a red sock clad leg which swung a boot clad foot towards the ball. The contact was sweet and the ball flew, curling away from the outstretched keepers hand and buried itself in the back of the net. As one, the shit rippers, Top Wife from Swindon and I screamed and jumped for joy. The Town were one nil up! I looked back towards the pitch to see Mr David Bamber peel away from the area, arms aloft, celebrating his goal. The shit rippers turned to me and reminded me of my vow. I was, and am, a Swindon Fan.
It has been a hell of a ride
