I'd tried to secure a ticket for Everton's away game at Ipswich, neither enquiries at the ticket offices of both clubs proved fruitless.  That ground would have to be visited at a later date, so the free Saturday gave me the chance to head to Surrey and watch my hometown club Southport down at Woking.  The weather was absolutely balmy, and the sight of many supporters at the game in shorts and t-shirts was strange for a mid-October date.  It really felt like a game at the very start of the season, and Southport's manager, Phil Wilson, actually sat with his chair inclined towards the sun during the afternoon!

I'd been to see New Order in concert the previous evening at the Brixton Academy (who, might I add, proved that they are Britain's best band - still!) and so it was with a heavy head and saw ears that I drove around the M25, passing the Southport team coach on the way.  When I arrived at the Kingfield I persuaded the car park attendant that I was a member of the Southport party and he duly allowed me to park free of charge in the official car park.  As I left the car I noticed that the team coach had already arrived and when I reached it the team and officials had already disembarked and made their way into the ground.  I was just about to ring Brett - by now you will know that my brother-in-law is the Sandgrounder's physio - so that he could assure my free passage into the ground, when I realised that I was already in!  No-one batted an eyelid as I strolled the short distance through a couple of passage-ways and out onto the small area in front of the raised Main Stand.  The visiting players and staff were enjoying the sun out on the pitch before getting down to the pre-match business, and Brett was amazed to see me appear before the gates had opened and without his help!

The sun was blinding - especially after the previous nights' experiences - but the sedate ambience of the Kingfield was welcome.  Being the first spectator inside allowed me a free roam around the entire stadium, and I soon appreciated the fine venue that Woking call home.  Set amongst a leafy suburb, with the trappings of the wealthy Surrey stockbroker belt all around, the stadium backs onto a tennis club - their indoor courts dwarf the terracing that runs the length of the pitch.  The Main Stand, opposite, is a classic old small wooden stand - in fact a couple of structures are to be found - that itself wouldn't look out of place overlooking a tennis court. The lush green surface and the similarly coloured paintwork around the Main Stand side of the ground almost leant a Lawn tennis Club feel to the surroundings.