View From The Dolan: A Reading Loss That Still Felt Like A Party

Ben’s take on rather a special day at the SCL on Saturday.

Walking that line between hope and despair has been a constant battle over the past few years. Lurching from one farce to another, almost on a weekly basis, has been draining on everyone.

At 10.05am on Saturday May 3, all of that anguish was gone.

“10.30 apparently!”

“Keep your eyes peeled.”

Two simple messages, which told me everything I needed to know. This club was about to change hands. Dai Yongge was no more. Unreal.

It’s hard to sum up those feelings in that moment, but suffice to say they were varied, big and long awaited. After years of turmoil and uncertainty came some sort of release. The sun bore down on Upper Tilehurst and I sat in my garden with a coffee like a prize fisherman with a weighty trout.

I got Ross out of bed in Maine and told him to send a Zoom link because we were going to record a pod come hell or high water.

His face was like a melted candle. He had squinty eyes. But he was resplendent in a replica shirt, as was I, and we recorded a pod in the most organic way we’ve ever done. It was possibly the happiest 21 minutes of club-related business I’ve conducted in recent years.

Getting to the ground early was law at that point. As I parked up, you could smell the party atmosphere all around. Even at 1pm, the queues for the mega shop were massive, the community desperate to get their hands on Reading FC merch and drink in the day like children grabbing Prime bottles like it was 2022.

As I walked round to the hotel, I bumped into Sir Brian McDermott and had a brief chat with him. He told me how well Noel Hunt had done with what he had. I told him he’d learnt from the best and he said: “Well, Steve is here today,” to which we both laughed.

The fame didn’t stop there. In the foyer stood the most American-looking man I’d ever seen: Mr Todd Trosclair. I shook his hand, asked for a photo, gave him a TTE card and thanked him. He said: “Thank you, we’ve been working on this for over a year.”

I think, from his point of view, he was probably a bit bewildered by the new-found fame. Yes, I know he threw out the first pitch at a Red Sox match recently, but being surrounded by literally 10s of Reading fans is a whole different level of adulation.

My drink upstairs was interrupted by Rob Couhig downstairs giving an impromptu speech to the fans gathered below. More comms in a few hours than we had from Dai in nearly eight years. A decent start.

After that, it was round to the fanzone, bathed in blistering golden light, to listen to Reading’s premium rock band and friends of the site/pod: The Amazons. They were on good form, as were the thousands that had turned up to see them perform their mini set. Given the overall mood and physical attendance at games this season, it was a welcome change to see so many people at the ground, just enjoying the vibes.

I bumped into plenty of people I knew, mainly TTE’s Tom Hill, who was in fine form. The lad had endured something like a 16-hour train journey from the barren wastelands of the north to come down to the game, and I was glad he did. It would have been a shame for anyone to miss out on the day.

A few more people I didn’t know said hi and that they listened to the pod and watched the channel, which I was grateful for. Sometimes it has felt like we are just putting out content into the abyss and I was pleased that people felt they could say things in person. It meant a lot.

Of course, our game was largely second to what happened with Leyton Orient. Within two minutes they had scored, which sucked the life out of the crowd around me like air leaving a balloon that had outstayed its welcome at a party. The nerves were evident, the fear was increasing.

Fans tried their best to rally the team but, ultimately, whatever we did would have been irrelevant if Orient were to win. It was all over, pretty much, when they scored their second, which the visiting fans took very little time in sharing with the rest of the ground.

I won’t give you a blow-by-blow but, at that point, there was no coming back. After half-time things on the pitch got really silly, like those end-of-season games tend to get when the shackles are off and the results mean nothing. It was sad to see so many people leave before the final whistle, but it was what it was.

While most games won’t be like this, hopefully the atmosphere was enough to entice a few back next year, despite being in League One again. The real victory was off the pitch though, as we all know, and despite it being disappointing to miss out on the playoffs, I don’t think anyone will truly will be sad about the season given that it has been a quite phenomenal effort from all involved.

The lap of honour at the end was the highest attended I’ve seen in recent times, with the player of the season vote being the most hotly contested I can remember.

Never has a loss felt like a party more than this game, save maybe for the Birmingham City away match when we were already promoted - and lost. All eyes will turn to what should be a pre-season of change and possibility (imagine signing a player for actual money?!) with the club moving in what will hopefully be a positive direction.

Days like this remind us all why we didn’t give up hope, why we kept going and why we supported the club through its darkest time. Onwards and upwards.

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This will be the last “official” Dolan of the season and I wanted to say thank you for reading it. Over the past few years, it’s been hard to keep it going, but the odd like here and there has kept me writing it.

I’ll be back next season as the column enters its sixth year, so thank you for all your support with it. I hope it’s been a good read.

Until next time.