FtF goes to Pompey

I woke up yesterday morning in a terrible mood to be honest. I was totally convinced that we'd scrape a 1-1 draw at Portsmouth and Reading would trounce Derby, a result that would have sent us down to the Championship. This state of mind lasted throughout the two hour drive along the south coast...and for most of the match!

After finding a free car parking space two minutes away from the ground (I won't list the place here as I want it for next season, too, but any readers wanting the heads-up should email me!) we headed for McDonalds as there were still three hours to go before kick off.

In the restaurant we met Paul Konchesky's family - including his Dad and two boys - who were very gracious. They said everyone in the team was nervous about the match and just wanted to get on with it. We felt the same.

Into the ground as soon as the gates opened and what a refreshing change. The police were friendly, the stewards were smiling (learn from them Fulham) and we weren't even strip-searched for our bottle tops. Amazing stuff.

Just before 2pm Al Fayed came into view and was serenaded with the 'QPR chant', at which point he came over and gave us a wave. Very few chairman are held in such high regard and the warmth from us fans was genuine.

Waiting for three o'clock to come round was agony. The fans - 2,000, 3000? - were in great voice, though, and went through the entire repertoire of songs, including long-overdue anthems for both Simon Davies and Brede Hangeland.

When kick off finally came it signalled the start of 75 minutes of sheer hell, followed by 15 of nail biting terror - but looking back it was worth every minute. Pompey certainly couldn't be accused of letting us win, they were all over us like a rash and how we held out I will never know.

The home supporters, who were fantastic to us throughout the day, even patiently waited as we saluted our heros after the final whistle before they could welcome their own team back out onto the pitch for the traditional end of season lap of honour.

Both Sean Davis and Papa Bouba Diop got great receptions from us which was great to see. They were both good servants to our club - particularly Sean, who was given a rousing rendition of: Who put the ball in the Blackburn net?

Bully and Murphy then came out again to clap the fans that had stayed behind. We then chanted: We want Roy, We want Roy - and finally our manager appeared and came over. What a reserved man he is eh? No glory taking, just quietly fitting into the background. He looked genuinely pleased with the reception he was getting which was thoroughly deserved.

McBride and Healy then came out as well before it was finally time to leave the ground. Personally I would have preferred to have stayed there all night!

Outside we gathered behind a barrier near the Fulham coach where a good number of the players, including Boca, Hangeland, McBride, Healy, Murphy and Bullard came over to sign autographs...we managed to get Hangeland and Brian's - both of which will soon be on the wall!

An amusing song/carol for Healy too which went along the lines of:
Away in a manger, no crib for a bed
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head
The stars in the night sky look down where he-leay, he-leay, he-leay!!

On the way back to the car we met with Brian (and his lovely wife) shook his hand and thanked him for everything. A true gent and a Fulham legend without a doubt.

Needless to say the journey back home was the complete opposite of the earlier trip. Radio Five Live blasting out, chatting, joking, singing. Great stuff and a wonderful, fairy tale ending to a pulsating, frustrating season. I can't wait for August...