Bloody hell, that was a strange day. Kingfield 0 Kingsmeadow 3 was never really in doubt, but it appears that so much anticipation and hope was geared towards a Franchise draw/loss, which would have sent them down this season, that in true Dons style, it would fuck up. From the WUP t-shirts (which has since become my mum’s birthday pressie) to banners proclaiming Franchise’s demise, to the planned piss up and mass orgy drinks in Wimbledon afterwards, when the inevitable set in, there was a bit of anti-climax. As for the on-field stuff, our new hero is one Mr S. Small-King. Et pourquoi pas, exactement? Because of his screamer for our first goal. And boy, did he look chuffed.
Second half saw us go up the relevant gear or three, and after a few misses, along popped Sully to score with his scrotum (officially) or hand (realistically). Third goal, one Jamie Taylor, following a good run and shot. Which was more difficult to score than some of the other howlers…..
Onwards
Plus points: Another win. Another clean sheet. SSK looks good. Come to think of it, so do most of NE’s new signings.
Minus points: Shooting as effective as government immigration policy. Defence appauling at times.
The referee’s a…… : Well, he was getting a bit of stick from the 10 year old kid beside me. No, he was NOT being prompted by me.
Them: They played better than the FA Vase match, not that that was difficult. Actually breached our defence a couple of times, managed to hit the post, and had they not managed to blast the ball over when they had a clear shot on goal, who knows? Then again, we would have probably won 5-1 after that.
Stand and deliver: I know that everyone loves Woking’s stand, but really I find it far too steep for my liking. I even got dizzy looking behind me. And I managed to stumble on the way out…
Point to ponder: There seemed to be far less people there than previous times (for various reasons). So, how the hell was it 1013?
Truth is stranger than fiction: (1) Ryan Gray’s attempt to do a rugby-style drop ball conversion from six yards out. Twice. (2) The Woking PA. Anyone remember the woman who did the Plough Lane PA in 86/87? The one who managed to mispronounce Jan Molby’s name so spectacularly? Well, this must have been her younger sister. And she even sounded like somebody who works for McDonalds/Ryanair. (3) Observing the suited and booted brigade, ready for their evening of alcohol and punchups. And that’s before anyone gets in the ring. There is no truth to the comment that the last time a group of Wombles were dressed so formally, they were being hauled up for incidents relating to the Coney Hall game. (4) Your editor getting lost en route, ending up in Guildford. Told you it was a strange day.
Wallingford watch: Lost 2-1 to the Heathrow Runway Brigade. It appears that we now cannot finish any lower than second, and in fact need only 7 points to gain the championship.
Franchise watch: And as sure as night follows day, the little jism guzzlers go and fucking win. Up at Wigan as well, who by all accounts played like pony. Mind you, only 46 or so in total turned out to watch their goliath-like escape (no, stop laughing). Personally, I want them to go down in Milton Keynes. It would be fitting.
Hello mum: Name the Womble who appeared to blag his way into the TV gantry. And name the Womble who scored his very first hat-trick in a football game this morning, bless him.
Anything else? Not really. Still can’t get over how many people were trying to get hold of the Franchise score.
So, was it worth it? A win is always worth it. Sometimes, a loss can make it better.
In a nutshell: Be patient….