Reading Roars!

Meet Rob, 25 years of age and living on Reading’s streets.  When I left him, he had one pound in his pocket and needed another seven to get himself a bed for Christmas.

Trouble is, Rob, whose parents died seven years ago, leaving him in this dire situation, needs to collect this amount before 11pm tonight, and be present with the cash in Caversham, on the other side of town.

Shoppers walk by carrying their Christmas purchases, both hands full.  They see Rob, they hear him, but they don’t stop to help.  And so Rob is stuck.  Seemingly stuck without a bed this Christmas.  Stuck without his sleeping bag too, for that was stolen.

Rob isn’t even in the town centre, where he would undoubtedly have more luck.  He explained to me that, if caught by the police, he’d face up to two years imprisonment for begging. This wasn’t fair, he said, explaining that, unlike the Big Issue sellers within the IDR boundary, he was clean and off drugs.

“I’m not getting anywhere”, Rob muttered despondently, adding that he was considering theft as a last resort.  I urged him to try simple tactics - putting out a card, moving to the bus stop, changing his appeal to say “It’s cold.  It’s Christmas.  I need a bed”, even to beg in the town centre instead.  After all, no one would arrest him now, the night before Christmas Eve?  He shook his head.

Four hours to go.  Will Rob achieve his Christmas miracle?

Christmas wouldn’t be complete without a whiff somewhere of frankincense. The mystical substance was burning outside the Global Cafe on London Street early this afternoon to draw in customers. However, rather than mince pies or mulled wine, there was something rather surprising in store - an Ethiopian coffee ceremony.

Coffee is one of the things I look forward to most in life (sad, but true). A book I once read about the history of the drink revealed that it all started in east Africa many, many years ago when a goat, after eating some coffee beans, became a little, well, animated. The bean was then incorporated into religious ceremonies in Ethiopia.

So when I saw that there was coffee burning done in the ancient Ethiopian way at the Global Cafe, I was intrigued.

It all looked rather simple. There were the beans roasting over a flame, a tall pot, a tray with white cups and a bowl of popcorn. Presiding over all this was a rather cheerful African lady.

“You look shocked” the woman smiled as I stared at the set-up. “I’m making some coffee”.

I took a seat. I was offered some popcorn and told that it traditionally formed part of the ceremony. Frankincense, coffee and popcorn - what a mix, I thought.

The lady passed the roasted beans around each table, so that customers could appreciate the intoxicating aroma of the fresh coffee, before pouring the black liquid into the cups. No milk or sugar were added. It was pure and simple. The real deal. Coffee as it was prepared millenia ago, before it evolved into Banana Caramel Frappuccino.

I was warned of its strength. No matter, I said, I like my coffee strong and bitter.

I took a sip. It tasted unusual. It was less dense or rich than what I expected. After two or three sips, however, and my eyes widened a little, with my heart upping a gear. This was good stuff.

Amazingly, the coffee was free, but I didn’t stick about for another cup. Fired up, I bounded out of the Global Cafe like a delirious goat, ready to brave the Christmas crowds.

I’m not a cricket follower. I don’t know the rules and know little about the teams. The psychology of the sport, like any other, does interest me, however, and its personalities, such as Shane Warne and Freddie Flintoff, are exciting (even if the game sometimes isn’t).

Cricket featured heavily in the news recently, of course, because of The Ashes and England’s defeat by Australia. Which is presumably why the Reading Evening Post is giving away two copies of Match of My Life - The Ashes by Rob Wightman and Sam Pilger.

For a chance of winning, all you have to do answer a cricket-related question that won’t leave you stumped (if you do get it wrong, then Shane on you). Full details can be found in the Reading Evening Post Ashes 2006-07 section.

I was fond of the Jazz Club in Reading. It was different and, well, classier than most other clubs in town. The floor was shiny, the bar was well-stocked and the live entertainment was pretty good. I remember standing in the middle of the floor, with lights swirling all around me (like being a goldfish, I imagined, with thermoluminescent plankton whizzing around the bowl). It also felt safe, with no (and excuse my snobbery) chavs or (and excuse my use of language) pissheads.

How times have changed.

Now I hear of a late-night shooting at The Arches Club, the venue which has replaced the Jazz Club, of a 25 year old male. He was shot by a handgun five times, taking four hits in the chest, after up to 10 men stormed past bouncers into the club. At the time of writing, the victim is in a critical condition.

Unfortunately, these incidents happen. It was described by the club as “isolated”, yet I recall other killings in the town - at Matrix (see comments) and Mango clubs (I was at Mango when it happened, and was later questioned by police. It wasn’t me, I should add).

Let’s hope that when the gunners next return to Reading, it will be Arsene Wenger’s men instead.

Another defeat against another (I would argue) inferior side, on this occasion at home to Blackburn Rovers.

Reading’s Harper put the home side ahead four minutes before half time, and Doyle could have doubled the score just before the interval.

Blackburn’s former Champions League winner (not with Blackburn, of course, but with the 2004 Porto side managed by you-know-who) Benni McCarthy scored from a header in the 65th minute and David Bentley blasted a second in the 83rd minute, exploiting a zombified Reading defence.

I almost choked on my Caipirinha when I saw Bentley’s winner during the television highlights. Blackburn seemed to have too much freedom.

Reading slumped to a 3-2 loss away to Newcastle, missing an opportunity to go third in the Premiership table.

The Royals were a goal down after 23 minutes, but Harper replied with two, the first in the 37th minute and the second  shortly after.  However, Newcastle bounced back, with Obafemi Martins converting a 57th minute penalty and midfielder Belozoglu Emre winning his side three points with a late goal.  How annoying.

You know, last year I was thinking: what if my two favourite football clubs, Reading and Barcelona, were to meet in competition?  And by that I mean a midweek European encounter, rather than a pre-season friendly?  What if Ronaldinho came to the Renaissance, and Kitson conquered the Nou Camp?  What was the likelihood of the blaugrana and Royals ever facing each on the pitch, outside the virtual world of Pro Evolution Soccer 6?

Well…Reading are now close, very close to a coveted Champions League berth, falling outside only because of goal difference.  The somewhat unglamourous Thames Valley team is making significant strides toward the competition regularly contested by Milan, Bayern and Europe’s other Royals, Real Madrid.  Reading and Barça may well meet next season (of course, Reading would have to pre-qualify first, but let’s worry about that later).

On to the technical stuff.  Reading are 6th in the Premiership this evening due to a fourth successive win, this time over visitors Bolton.  Kevin Doyle headed in John Oster’s cross after 32 minutes to make it a 1-0 victory.

You can read the BBC match report for full details.