Pompey diary: From head-banger to Formula One wannabee

Hermann Hreidarsson, Portsmouth
Hermann Hreidarsson, Portsmouth
Lee Bowyer.

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The two mini-buses that have ferried the troops around are like a white version of the A-Team vans.

Players pile in and out at regular intervals and a few have taken their turns behind the wheel. But few drivers were more terrifying than Hermann Hreidarsson.

The Icelandic international is currently sporting a chipped front tooth – the cause of which remains a mystery – but decided he was driving back from one of the squad’s training sessions as torrential rain hit the Charleston area.

A first corner out of the stadium saw the van power slide through a giant puddle, leaving passengers quietly reaching for their seat belts.

And all this with the blaring sound of heavy rock coming from the stereo, with him occasionally indulging in a spot of head-banging and letting out terrifying roars while waiting at traffic lights.

But a raise of the hand and a regal word from Kanu and Hreidarsson remembered he was a responsible chauffeur and not a F1 wannabe.

The heavy rock, however, continued to make our ears bleed for the rest of the journey.

n Perhaps it was their way of telling us something.

Tagging along with the Pompey squad on their Charleston adventure has occasionally seen light-hearted stick come our way from the players and coaching staff.

Wear the wrong trainers and it’s ‘I take it your missus isn’t playing badminton this week’.

Dress down in casual style and it’s ‘The bins are out the back and they need emptying’.

But it said it all that The News’ heroic hacks were left behind at the Blackbaud Stadium as the rest of the travelling party took off for the post-match meal at a nearby restaurant.

Wandering around like a couple of lost souls having filed their stories and contemplating a long walk back to the hotel some 10 miles away, a kindly Charleston Battery kit man by the name of Mike turned saviour with a lift down to the venue.

Expecting a flurry of apologies for forgetting two vital members of the party, Messrs Allen and Wilson were instead greeted with ‘Where have you been?’

And there lies the cruellest part of it all.

Nobody had even noticed we weren’t there.