We seemed the be the only English people in The Tottenham. The staff were South African and everybody else seemed to be foreign aswell. There was certainly no mistaking the sizeable amount of French rugby fans dressed in their blue jerseys. It was midday when we arrived in the pub right by the Tottenham Court Road underground station.

After our first pint we braved the rain and made our way round the corner and into the Bricklayer's Arms. The pub was a maze of little rooms and the odd customer who did enter through the doors was soon nowhere to be seen. The seven of us virtually had the place to ourselves and at £2.32 a pint in the middle of London we couldn't complain.

Just after 2pm we boarded the train over to South Bermondsey along with a mixture of both home and away supporters. Off the train, we used our 'private' walkway direct to the away end. Our tickets had no seat details and stated it was 'Unreserved Seating' so there was some confusion when the stewards that manned every stairway denied entrance due to the block number we each had. This led to the ridiculous notion of entering via the correct block and then just making your way across the rows to sit where you wanted.

The game was something of a bore I guess. Each side had the odd chance but I'm struggling to remember much else and neither team could lay a claim to having to deserve the win. Even our much larger share of possession counted for nothing when you fail to do anything with it. Only Sheffield United and Palace have scored less goals on the road than us. I'm more than happy when we nick the odd goal to win but more often that not we are just not able to score enough.

It was the away fans which seemed the happier at the end although it would take a lot to shake the Millwall fans out of their angry mode. Ten years ago they held a fearsome reputation as a rough and intimidating set of supporters but now they have turned into something of a joke. They got stupidly angry at anything; from a foolish handball shout to Billy Davies daring to get out of his seat. The first time I visited the New Den they were baying for blood and were probably the loudest set of fans I have come across but they are a shadow of their former 'glory' these days.

As we left the ground we found that we weren't being allowed out of the compound. The Metropolitan Police were out in force guarding a gate that had nothing behind it but were nowhere to be seen as rival supporters traded insults at full-time.

The boys in blue finally decided to empty the gates and let us onto the train after fifteen minutes or so although not quite in time as dozens failed to make it despite assurances that it was being held for us. The train, I might add, was able to hold many more.

The results of those team around us weren't kind; even Derby won their first game for seventeen years although I was quite please to see that first class twat Phil Brown had failed to win AGAIN following his antics at full-time on Tuesday night. Suddenly, things aren't looking quite as good as they were a week ago although we are hardly out of it. A win on Tuesday at 'Boro is vital to keep up with the pace.

It'll be over in a flash but there is a long way to go yet. Up the Reds.