After The Noise

Everything Is Equal

Saturday 7 February 2026

Mark Johnson, Doug Shulman, Harrogate Town v Cambridge United, BBC Radio Cambridgeshire (2026)

Cambridge United away at Harrogate Town. Cambridge unbeaten for 14 league games. One more to equal the club record set in 1997. Harrogate, bottom of League Two. Struggling for wins and goals. What could possibly go wrong?

BBC Radio Cambridgeshire on in the car.

First half: awful. Lucky to only be 2–1 down. Harrogate barely scoring in recent games, and they’ve got two in the first twenty-odd minutes. That tells its own story.

I’m heading into work. Long overnight shift forthcoming. The sort that requires resolve more than enthusiasm. Phone signal keeps dropping in and out, so the commentary comes and goes in bursts. Half sentences. Half chances. Half a game.

Today hasn’t been great. Mood low. Five kilometers of furry-friend walking helped a bit, but not enough to shift the fog completely. No weight loss this week either. Not a surprise, really. You usually know when the numbers won’t move.

Rain drifting across Manchester. Everything feels grey and slow.

Someone dives into the outside lane for no reason. I have the choice: slow down and let him in, or just carry on. Given my mood, I carry on, putting my foot down to show him who’s boss. I know I’m being pathetic when I think like this.

No drama, just a quiet refusal to play along.

Why am I so on edge at the moment? A few weeks ago there was euphoria. Clean living, clean eating. It felt like I’d cracked everything. Had answers. Now it’s back to uncertainty. Maybe the medication needs adjusting. Maybe I just need rest.

Thought about going away somewhere. That would be nice. But everything’s expensive. There are always barriers.

Back to the match. Changes being made. Commentary drifting in and out again. Corners, substitutions, half-heard analysis. United still behind. Still not convincing.

People wandering into the road without looking. The small, everyday stupidity of it all. Maybe I’m just jealous. They’re out in the day. I’m heading into a weekend night shift.

Rain still falling. United still losing.
One of those days where nothing quite lines up.

The radio keeps talking. I keep driving.

Traffic awful. Weather awful. Mood awful. Football awful.

People shuffling through the rain, heads down, phones clutched like lifelines. Everyone in a hurry, nobody really going anywhere in particular. Just wet coats and grey skies.

Cambridge are all over them now, apparently. Plenty of possession, plenty of effort, nothing in the final third. Twenty minutes to go and still no breakthrough.

One of those matches where you can feel the clock ticking louder than the commentary.

Doug bemoaning the “lack of quality” in the final third. When he does this, you know the team are in big trouble.

I’m getting close to work. I’ll miss the end of the match. Probably for the best. Leave it ambiguous. Sometimes that’s kinder.

Main challenge tonight: resist the biscuit jar. Absolutely must resist it.

People wandering around in short skirts in this weather. Then everyone wonders why winter illnesses spread so easily. No surprise, really.

Still no goal.
Pulling into work now.

That just about sums up the mood of the day.
Such is life.

End Of Listening Log

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