It wasn?t just cold, it was a day when the wind bites through you and no amount of meat pies or coffee can bring feeling back to the extremities.

Somehow the lack of warmth would have been more acceptable if the entertainment provided was a little more, well, entertaining.

If the antiquated stadium hadn?t already brought on indigestion with its barbed wire security and soulless, taunting expanses of unused seats, the fare being served up on an increasingly frozen pitch would.

The home club might have been nicknamed the Valiants, but that is a word that better describes the fans, particularly those who had travelled up in hope from Essex.

Wrapped up as best they could, no more than 350 or so loyal Southend supporters had made it up to Stoke for the match but they were determined to sing themselves warm, however poor their team would play.

This was football at its most British, the gloves were on for players and fans alike, the tackles were flying, the agricultural defenders were at a premium, there were more than 19,000 empty seats ? and Shaun Goater wasn?t even in the starting eleven.

Maine Road this certainly was not, it wasn?t even the Madjeski Stadium, but that doesn?t mean Goater was any less worshipped.

?This boy is the biggest name we have had here in years,? said Tom Rowland, an Essex boy through and through who was hugely apologetic about not bringing his Bermuda flag or wearing his Goater shirt above his winter thermals.

?We were delighted when we got him, it shows the club really mean business.

?But he ain?t one of these jumped up old pros with a flash car looking to be the ?big I am?. The Goat works as hard as anyone and is just a top bloke.

?He?s been doing the business all season ? and those derby goals (against the dreaded Colchester United) were worth the cost of the season ticket.?

Rowland, who hails from Basildon and travels to most away games, admitted the ?Goat has been off his food for a few games? but still backed him all the way.

?I know the boss is resting him ? and he looks like he needs the rest ? but this boy is the genuine article. He?s already a legend to us.?

Goater, resplendent in woolly hat and gloves, warmed up down the sidelines in the first half, constantly pointing out things to the younger fellow subs and laughing and joking around. While he went through his warm-ups, his team-mates on the pitch simply went through the motions, failing to show anything in the way of attacking imagination against a very middle of the road Port Vale side and often failing to string passes together anywhere in sight of the opposition goal.

Freddy Eastwood, who has taken over the scoring during Goater?s hungry spell, looked bright and keen, every bit the Premiership prospect. Even though The Goat?s usual grazing partner never really got the scent of goal you could see he was a class act.

Wayne Gray, however, who has been let back into the side while Goater rests his 35-year-old joints, didn?t quite exude the same level of footballing competence. His first touch was heavy, his movement limited and he was very much swallowed up by a Port Vale defence who didn?t look all that brilliant themselves.

As is always the footballing way, former Shrimpers Leon Constantine and Michael Husbands scored goals either side of the break to put the home side ? who are not near a Port, or a Vale, and only barely resembled a Football Club ? into an unassailable position.

The Goat remain tethered to the bench and some of the fans ? cold and a long way from home ? became a little restless, although remained wildly positive and optimistic, in a way not dissimilar to that of City fans, and very different from most cynical, critical, spoilt armchair know-it-alls.

?They should really be bringing the Goat on now,? said Matthew Flegg, a London-based Shrimper. ?We might have lost this one but he is probably our best hope.?

A brief attempt at a ?Feed the Goat? chant began when he was introduced but was eclipsed almost immediately by general cheering as Southend went on the attack directly in front of their own fans.

The Goat was waiting at the back post but Gray overhit the cross and that was that ? the fans by that time had given up on the feeding chant and instead concentrated on just keeping warm for the remainder of the game.

Jay Smith managed to bundle in a last-minute consolation but that was to be all for the afternoon. The final whistle went and the Shrimpers darted for the warmth of their dressing room, but not Goater.

He might have just had an average game at best but he still wasn?t going to forget the fans who had braved both the location and the weather. He walked towards our end and raised his hands above his head, other players then followed suit and the fans were given the thanks they deserved.

It might not be Premiership football ? in fact it isn?t even close ? but class is class is class. Goater might not have his Premiership wages, world-class team-mates and TV cameras, but he?s got passion, he?s got grateful fans and he?s still got his class..

?Look at that,? added Flegg. ?He had a stinker and he still waves. You?ve got to love him.?