PIRATES, PIZZA AND A PINK SHIRT: My Fratton Park trip revisited

Article compiled by Alison Perkins

Anticipation dawned as brightly as the sunshine over the English Channel that streamed into my bedroom that April morning.

It was time to don my Pompey shirt and make tracks for the hallowed turf of Fratton Park.

Bristol Rovers, the Pirates, were our visitors as the 2013-14 season entered its final fortnight.

Having gone nearly all season without seeing my beloved team in action, I could barely wait.

Even better, I would be meeting up with a cousin that I hadn't seen in literally years and her nine-year-old niece. My cousin could remember going to support Pompey with her dad when growing up and today would be her niece's first experience of the Pompey wall of noise.

We met up on Portsmouth Harbour station and immediately headed for some pre-match sustenance at Gunwharf Quays.

My cousin related some good-natured banter they had enjoyed with Rovers' fans on the train from Southampton. 

Frankie and Benny's selection of pizzas left us spoiled for choice, but we ordered and waited whilst dissecting the afternoon ahead.

The pizza duly arrived and was delicious. We could have eaten more but, being conscious of our waistlines, headed back to the Harbour and caught the train up to Fratton.

There is nothing to beat a matchday afternoon walking along the main road from Fratton station to the ground. Pavements heaving with blue and white in all shapes and sizes, programme sellers and fast food stalls, the noisy excitement of voices and air heavy with expectation all combine to create an unforgettable atmosphere.

Once at the ground, we headed into the club shop. Bargains to be had in all directions. I snapped up home and third shirts at less than half price. Yes, the pink and maroon one that so divided opinion. Personally, I think it looks great.

We got into the ground, past the security checks. My cousin had the tops removed from her drinks bottles. Not sure why plastic tops would be classed as some sort of dangerous weapon, but okay. My bottle got through, probably because it was buried underneath my purchases from the club shop.

The seats were in a corner of the North Stand, near the Fratton End. Almost by the corner flag, in fact. A perfect viewing point for all the action that would unfold.

We were not to be disappointed.

The Fratton roar as the teams emerged from the tunnel onto the hallowed turf, ready to do battle, was as ear-splitting as ever.

Pompey scored first, Adam Webster wheeling away in delight as he celebrated his second goal in three games.

Matt Harrold equalised to dampen spirits temporarily, but Ryan Taylor put Pompey back in front.

Harrold was having none of it, equalising again almost instantly. A collective groan went up as another defensive lapse, so typical of our season, saw the teams end the half level at 2-2.

In the second half, the game seemed destined for a draw when Andy Awford sent Wes Fogden on. This proved to be an inspired move when the diminutive midfielder scored twenty minutes from time.

Fratton Park went mad as the players piled on top of each other in the Rovers goalmouth. Hope that Wes had some oxygen at the bottom of it!

The usual nail biting ensued as the clock counted down to full-time. Added time prolonged the anxiety as fans implored the referee to end the game. When he finally did, the ground erupted.

Pompey had won.

The 3-2 scoreline was hard earned but a fair result, given the effort and commitment on display. Andy Awford had taken his caretaker record to four wins from four and Pompey were all but safe.

Pirates' fans left, heads down, as they contemplated the very real possibility of relegation to the Conference. That, sadly, would become reality two weeks later.

As for us, we filed out of Fratton Park and headed back to the station, where we parted company.

On the train back to the Harbour, I overheard some Rovers fans dissecting the afternoon's action. Despite my own elation, it was difficult not to feel sorry for them and I fervently hoped that their club would survive.

It took a good twenty-four hours to properly come down from the euphoria of that day.

My cousin contacted me to say that her niece had thoroughly enjoyed herself and was still talking about the game.

The Fratton experience is highly addictive, whether you go to every game or the occasional one, as I do.

We will be back.

Pictures taken by Alison Perkins, except goal photos which are copyright via the Portsmouth Football Club page on Facebook. My cousin, Deki Bray, took the picture of her niece.

Article published on 7 August 2014