8548/21467
Just to make sure that I don't get any time to sleep, we were up before 6 to go to Somerset for my niece's wedding.
Somehow I didn't feel to bad and it was an easy drive. We stopped at a service station and I took Ernie to the loo. He complained that he wanted to go with his mum as the women's toilet was much nicer and cleaner than the men's. He just about still has that choice as an 8-year-old.
I said I didn't know if there was a difference because I'd not been in the ladies and he said "You should get your mum to take you in."
I loved the idea that it's OK as long as you're in with your mum and my 88 year old mum declaring, "It's all right, he's my son." That should be the rule.
I was a bit torn as the wedding started at 12.30pm which was the same time as the Rochdale vs York match that would decide the automatic promotion place. I managed to listen to a bit of the match as my kids played in a ridiculously beautiful centuries old tree in the grounds.
Then the ceremony began so I just had to trust my friend would text me if anything happened and I could see it on my watch. Also though I realised I could take photos of the happy couple and then sneakily check the score. It was 0-0. York would go up if it stayed that way.
The wedding was brilliant- the ceremony was outside in front of an incredible view and the sun was shining HOT. My niece and her husband are incredibly intelligent people, but also super cool and individual and they did this whole thing THEIR way. Both bride and groom wore beautiful dresses, because it was their day and they both had the right to feel like princesses.
The modern world of gender fluidity might have been mildly confusing for some of the older guests, but not very much at all. Everyone got it, I think. It's their wedding and they can celebrate in the way that they want. We were all just there for the joy of two people finding each other and when you're off social media you'll find most people don't give a fuck what other people do.
I spoke to one of the guys running the venue, who was a pretty regular bloke from Somerset and he wasn't phased either. He asked me if the groom had had the dress fitted as it was a terrific fit. "Seems like you're asking because you're interested in giving it a go too," I said and we laughed. If I'd said something like that to a Somerset bloke in the 1980s I would have (at best) had my head flushed down the toilet. Acceptance and security in yourself are wonderful things. Who gets upset about someone else living their best life? Only a fucking insecure arsehole.
Once the ceremony was over I could pay a bit more attention to the match, and looking after the kids was a good way of listening, though my phone battery was perilously low (Catie found a battery for me to plug into).
It looked like York were cruising to the 0-0 draw they needed (though unlucky not to be in the lead). I wasn't too happy though. After last week's last minute winner that kept Rochdale in it, my prediction was that it would be 0-0 til the 98th minute and then Rochdale would score. I almost put a bet on it.
As I lounged in the sun drinking a non-alcoholic beer, willing the last minute away, Rochdale scored. It seemed that for the second year in a row York were going into the lottery of the playoffs. It was gutting. This beautiful wedding was ruined. The Rochdale fans invaded the pitch. The Radio York commentators were desolate.
It was, it seems the archetypal York City experience. Twice seconds from promotion, but now going to lose in the play offs.
My Rochdale supporting friend was at the match. I had predicted this almost exactly and told him well done. There was time for one more attack once the fans were off the pitch and the invasion had given York the chance to regroup and cope with the disappointment. They had seconds to mount one last attack. My Rochdale friend was there and texted me 1-1 before it happened
on the radio commentary. York had scored a goal (did it cross the line? Yes of course it did).
One of the most incredible promotion battles settled in 10 insane minutes and the last kick of the season (apart from play offs). I was so numb that I couldn't really celebrate and I felt for the Rochdale fans, knowing exactly what it felt like to have something snatched at the last possible second. Hopefully they'll go up via the playoffs. It's a travesty that one of these teams isn't assured of promotion.
Back to the wedding and I told the groom what a great day this was and I think he was a bit upset when he found out it was because of the football. I don't think I spoiled the day for him though. It didn't matter. Now it was my big day and this party was for me.
