​If you are one of those people that say “ooh, it’s just another friendly” or worse, “it’s a semi-friendly”, then stop reading now. I bloody love the cups, always have done, so for me this was as competitive as two gladiators fighting dragons (I don’t know who was a gladiator and who was a dragon in the context of this game, but just go with it).I’m actually not in England at the moment but knew this game was on TV, so the night before I scoped out a local bar to tap the owner up into showing the game for me. To be fair, I’d visited this bar two years ago to watch us play Birmingham City in the season opener, so I knew what I was getting.Because the game was on the red button, he made it clear he wouldn’t know if he could show the game until kick-off, or at worst, five minutes after kick-off. To set the scene, the bar has about 18 screens dotted throughout the place and the most random selection of footie shirts you’ve seen pinned to the wall. One of our very own Waitrose classics was displayed very close to the screen I ended up watching.I faced an anxious wait to see if our game would be shown, so I calmly and expertly ordered a local draught beer – a beer I called “a waiting beer”. As he flicked through the games, it became clear I’d have to wait until after kick-off to see our lads do battle.Barnsley, Bradford City, Bristol City… Burnley, Burton Albion, Cardiff City all appeared, but not us (side note: those little dots indicate where we should have been). By now, I was worried. The bar was filling with slicked-back-hair, Asics-wearing West Ham United fans to watch their game against Portsmouth (I mean literally the worst two teams going) on the big screen with the sound, and I was sat there with a local beer, watching the owner cycle through thousands of channels. Just as I’d finished the complimentary BBQ Ruffles, we appeared, like a unicorn in the highlands of Scotland. Show time!In celebration, I ordered another local draught beer and settled down, hoping for a) a win and b) to block out the commentary of the other game (which in itself proved to be a skill). We started well, the kit looking good in the sunshine and the ball being sprayed around well. So good in fact that we actually scored through a comprised strike via the baby-faced assassin Josh Stokes. He really does look about 12 but, if he scores on the regular, I’ll overlook it completely.The camera panned to the dugout and it was a contrast of styles clothing-wise. Here is my review below:Leam Richardson: All black. Brave, given the weather. Not a badge in sight. Wouldn’t look wrong on the sidelines of La Liga.John Coleman: Badged-up. Chunky trainers. Mismatch of colours. Looked like a lost dad at an all-inclusive buffet in Cyprus.Bromley manager Andy Woodman: Competition winner.After the goal, it’s not wrong to say we collapsed. We conceded a goal that would have been a shambles for a Sunday league team, let alone a professional outfit that