Cocks and camera phones

Now I have been covering non-league football for four years now and I thought I knew footballers well. I even lived with a goal keeper until very recently and count several players as close friends but this season has been a revelation.

Lets start in Southport, Gloucester City’s first foray into the Blue Square North. Arriving at the gates I asked for directions to the press box – why asked the little man on the gate…worse was still to come. There I am, sat up at the top of the stand trying to set up my Mac when an older man asks me to move because I am sat in his seat, there is a row of them, I move. Next he pipes up: “So which one of the Gloucester boys is your boyfriend” ummm…

…I laugh it off, soon another man joins us in the press row, the question is repeated by him. I am tempted to point to Jack Harris or Matty Sysum, the youngest on the pitch but instead point to my actual boyfriend who is somewhere in the stands.

Elsewhere I have been asked to move so the ‘real reporter’ can have his seat (Corby, where Gloucester won 6-1), called ‘love’, ‘pet’ and every diminutive name going.

Only one ground so far has won me over with kindness and acceptance – Solihull Moors, where I was put in the directors box and brought chocolate cake at half time and looked after by a kind man called Len and former Oxford United Darren Patterson.

Mostly I sit quietly and eavesdrop on their team news.

Of course it is different at home – at the Corinium Stadium they know me, two and a bit seasons reporting on Ciren before I started covering the Tigers, it is like my home from home. But the visitors don’t know that and I face the usual sexist nonesense.

However today – wow!

Sat shivering in the stands watching Sarah Garrett attempting to control an increasingly unruly game, I was getting distracted by the group of Northwich Victoria lads sat in front of me. Firstly there were loads of them – how do the Vics, already having been in administration, in financial shit, afford so many players – there were about seven in front of me who were surplus to the squad! They have about five keepers – I had already met one called Kyle up at Vauxhall Motors when he was injured and had been sent out scouting.

There was a gobby, ginger, northern lad who seemed to be the ringleader – quite tall and clutching gloves so clearly one of the keepers. First he started asking the football scores, no problem. Then asking to go on facebook – no, I am trying to concentrate.

Next thing they are playing with their phones (nothing new, I usually travel on the City team coach and am used to the football banter)…”Here love, look at this its your Christmas present”

I look up to an old, cracked phone.

Me: “A broken phone, cheers”

Him: “Um no, wait a second, this”

A picture of him, presumably, naked, cock out

Me: “Great, cheers, do I get anything else”

Now lets consider the options

a) would he do this to a male reporter – no chance

b) would he do this to another girl – possibly

c) what possesses anyone to consider doing that??

A quick google search shows he is Curtis Aspden, on loan from Hull – a Prem team (just) – do these teams not do media training??

Surely the first lesson would be DON’T SHOW A NAKED PIC OF YOURSELF TO A REPORTER