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Once again, and with depressing predictability, we blow our big game big time. This time, 1889 0 2000 2 was the order of the day, and we just can’t seem to shoot. Let’s face it, there’s more chance of Peter Tatchell finally sorting out Robert Mugabe than us winning a game where we decide to use a direct style for the small men up front. The first goal came when Shimms decided that instead of picking the ball up he would play pat-a-cake with it, ending up with a highly inventive method of picking it up (hint: next time, try picking the ball up rather than the player’s leg). Penalty, and to be honest we were lucky we weren’t down to 10 men.

So, what then? Well, it then got a bit fruity, but more on that later. Suffice to say, we huffed, and puffed and to no avail. They went up the other end and scored. As for the rest of it….

Plus points: Well, I suppose their goalie’s kicking was shite.

Minus points: I think we will just have to bite the bullet here and admit to ourselves that really, we ain’t good enough. And if TE decides to do another strop and depart from the scene, this time we shouldn’t stop him.

The referee’s a ……. : OK, I will try and keep composed here otherwise I could suffer a stroke. He had a good start then lost it. He blew up for everything. He totally and comprehensively failed to keep track on W2K’s impression of Southall. He was so bad that even Terry’s Tart couldn’t find suitable diction to describe him. Apart from “cunt” of course. And a couple of “fucks” and a few “wankers” thrown in for good measure. All in all, that’s all I am prepared to about him, except that I hope Saddam Hussein has been hiding plutonium in the ref’s house and the US nuke him.

Womble aggro [on-field version]: A good ruck finally, all 22 men involved and a sending off of a W2K mammal to boot. Described by your humble and esteemed editor as a “bit niggly”, though sadly there were no deaths or maimings involved. Whole thing did seem to get stupid towards the end : not only did the stewards have to calm down (or rather, tell to shut up) the W2K bench, but our player (forget who) got sent off for “headbutting” whilst another one of our players put in a rather clever and subtle accidental stamp on the head of their player in the main stand/Cold Lane end corner. If we had a sin bin for football games we would have needed to cordon off half the seating area today to make room.

Womble aggro [off-field version]: OK, I have gone over this many times, and I really don’t want another bloody argument over this. It’s counter-productive and you all know I’m right anyway 🙂 Basically, today towards the end a woman in the main stand threw something at one of their hobbling players. Wasn’t a glass bottle but could have been. Just before that, another VERY irate mainstander was being held back by two stewards. I’m sure that most people in there were at one time or another tempted to cause GBH on at least one party on the pitch. The age old SW19 argument is this : if opposition players and staff see fit to antagonise the other team’s fans – especially in an important game like this – they should not complain when somebody does try and throw something at them. Yes, I know that at this level in particular, a bit of winding-up is part and parcel of the game. I know that some people think it’s perfectly OK. I’m not going to even bother asking oppo teams to stop it now, it’s futile. Would I be happy if we did it? Actually, I wouldn’t, because if in the unlikely* event of Joe Sheerin scoring a last minute goal in front of 1000 Vile fans and sarcastically clapping them, I would expect at least one Grand Dive lowlife to try and physically reply. And in pressure situations, people DO react rather more, ahem, passionately if they feel they’re being goaded. That’s my point, and always has been. Anyway, I know I’m in a minority of one over this subject, so I’ll keep quiet… 🙂

* – by “unlikely event”, I am referring to the somewhat preposterous notion that there have ever been 1000 Raynes Park Vile fans in total, let alone in the same place at the same time, and is NOT a slur on Mr Sheerin’s goalscoring abilities.

Point(s) to ponder: We didn’t even big up that much beforehand. Is our constant capitulation over these games down to us? The only constant from Franchise to AFCW is us. Do we have a voodoo sign over success? Do we, as suggested today, have too high an expectation of our players who are ultimately amateur? In other words, are we going to have to take the very painful and not entirely popular decision to re-educate ourselves on what to expect from a football team?

Truth is stranger than fiction: (1) Raising £2156.31 for the York City survival fund through the HT collection alone. Last count very promising for York (they raised £25k at the York game alone, and WISA gave £500). (2) Did Phillo really describe our opponents as “Windy 2000”? (3) When a game gets depressingly bad, what is the natural topic of conversation between two hetro male Wombles? Masturbation. I am not joking either. Speaking of wanking…

Franchise FC watch: Lost 4-0. Bwahahahahahahahah. Oh bwahahahahahahahahahahaha. Hehehehehehe. Hahahaha…. OK, I’ll stop there. Dickov scored a hat-trick, at least two of them penalties.

I have absolutely honestly no idea how many of them turned up, but suffice to say Leicester sold their away allocation to the home supporters instead. No doubt 500 of them really turned up, all from MK.

Chants would be a fine thing: I’m sure it’s louder at the WB end but I still don’t think that we are quite as buzzing as we like to believe. The Champagne Song got a much welcome airing, and so did a “You’re just a gay team from Brighton” reportedly. That’ll go down well. Oh, and was that a murmur of sound I heard from the Grolsh stand?

Anything else? Yeah, there is/was a “I love my club” disco, a phrase that still sends thoughts of cliche ridden “fun” with people badly gyrating to “I Will Survive” through the bitter and twisted psyche of SW19. Despite this, I would have gone, though as my musical choice of Bavarian oompah bands, death metal and Daniel O’Donnell were ruthlessly snubbed by the organisers, I decided to take a rain check.

So was it worth it? Well, it was a nice day and it got us out in the open air. Apart from that…..

In a nutshell: Hmph.