I love days like last Saturday. Leyton Orient were comprehensively outplayed at home by Nottingham Forest but, more importantly, other results ensured that we stayed up in League One, an eventuality that seemed highly unlikely back in September and October. So we were all happy.
And, with the weather glorious, it all provided a perfect backdrop to a languid day of drinking and socialising in the Birkbeck pub, followed by some magnificently raucous and shamelessly uninhibited karaoke later on. Loads of people I hadn't seen for a while stayed out, and we all went home overly refreshed but basically happy.
It's the delightful little mundane details of bog-standard days and nights like this that are why I wouldn't want to support any other team. Much sentimental nonsense has been written about football clubs as communities - small football clubs especially - but there's definitely something there. The most eclectic, eccentric and uncategorisable gathering of people I know is the one with whom I watch Leyton Orient matches. It's also one of the friendliest and funniest. Matchdays in the Birkbeck are what socialism should be like.
Which is why the idea that supporters of small clubs are 'jealous' of clubs such as Chelsea, Manchester United etc are so absurdly, ignorantly inaccurate. They're welcome to their pre-ordained, predictable, overpriced charade of a league.
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