Coach's Box
Visiting Portsmouth Eitan spies a sign for the FC and begs a visit to the stadium even though mid-week and most certainly deserted. An easy decision nonetheless. We park in an empty lot and investigate how to see (sneak onto?) the pitch and happily, I ask a ground's keeper - Frank- who sees the boy's excited face and cannot resist us. Frank, who must be in his late 60s, gives us a full-tour from personal experience: "I was com'n here when I was a laddy with my dad. We would be standing, usually, but now they've replaced our gally with seats." The stadium is one of England's oldest: >100 years. Unlike the chic, new and very modern Emirates stadium where Arsenal plays or the largest club stadium Old Trafford (Manchester United), Portsmouth compares well to those old grainy black-and-whites where the fans huddled closely together wearing wool ivy caps - their frozen breath somehow visible. The stadium holds less than 20,000 and until recently half that before modernising for the Premier League, where the squad is a sound middle-player. Frank shows Eitan the coaches box - pictured - and indicates where the players sit when out of action. Eitan gushes as he considers Sol Cambell (Portsmouth captain and England player), Peter Crouch and David James (Portsmouth and England goalie). I did not have to ask twice for this photo.
Sonnet and I to visit Bath last night for Dave and Tabitha's Twelth Night party, which we have attend nine years in a row. Unfortunately we cannot quite make the logistics work as our nanny remains in Italy for the holidays so Sonnet must go by herself- boo hoo for me missing both the party and a 5-star nearby hotel. Still, I love having the Shakespeares to myself and yesterday I pick them up from school with their pal Jackson and we head to the common for football despite the sub-freezing weather. Eitan, as usual, insists on shorts and light fair while Madeleine wises up and puts on tights. Jackson no dummy and bundles himself with a very large winter-parka. Everybody tired in the end and we hit the hay at 7PM, including dad.
Eitan, enthusiastically, this morning 5:45Am: "Dad! You have to wake up at 7AM!"
Madeleine spells 'cross': "C.. R.. O.. S.. . . . .K?"
Madeleine does her homework: "Math, math, math! That is all I ever do around here!"
