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The late late show

I really, really would like to offer my congratulations to AFC Wimbledon for doing something I didn’t think was possible. I genuinely believed that it was beyond the realms of humanity to put me in a worse mood than the one I developed in the second half. After White Flag 2 White Shirt 2 I realise there is absolutely no limits to how out and out fucked off I can be.

Satan help anyone standing around me in the second half. But more importantly, Satan help our team. For the third time in a week, we have managed to produce outright shit. For the third time in a week we have proven that we won’t get automatic promotion. And after the third pathetic performance in a week, I really openly and honestly question our ability not only to win in the playoffs but to actually get in them to begin with.

Why? Just answer me, why? Why have we gone from a team walking about with a swagger to one that could be 6-0 up at half time and will end up drawing 6-6 if it’s lucky? I’ll tell you why – it’s to do with the massive queues outside the game. No, not the actual fans but the Torquay game. Drawing them has got to be the worst thing to have happened to us this year.

See, ever since we drew the Gulls in the FAT our team has lost its focus. Actually, worse than that – it’s believed its own hype. It’s convinced itself that we don’t have to put the effort in, to kill games off when we can (we were two fucking nil up today for fucking fucks sake) and that the sides we play against aren’t even worthy of being on the same pitch as us.

Well, when I walked out of KM tonight and I started thinking about the rammifications, I honestly said to myself that we should immediately withdraw from the FAT, and give the walkover to Torquay. Yes, it’s an over-reaction, but quite simply our side doesn’t deserve the chance to test itself against a Conf side. By focusing on next Saturday at the expense of yet another vital three points effortlessly gifted away, I’m not too sure whether we’ve proven ourselves as big time charlies or small time. The former because we think with the size of the crowd, the adulation, the gate receipts, the setup, the mascot etc etc we should be playing Torquay twice a season. The latter because we’re treating it as our big day out, our very own cup final, and the rest doesn’t matter.

No, it won’t happen. But it’s what I still feel to an extent right now. Am I angry? Guilty as charged, m’lud. What today’s capitulation has proven is that we’re not ready to go up. A team that is ready to go up gets a 2-0 lead at home and keeps it. A team that is ready to go up, if it does let a goal in just after the break kills the game slowly, and maybe squeak out a third goal at the temerity of scoring against us. A team that is ready to go up does not, and I repeat does not, meekly surrender a game in the way we did today.

If anyone at AFCW doesn’t like what I’ve said, tough shit. I don’t like having the realisation that we will (and let’s be honest here, we will) be spending yet another fucking season in the Ryman poxy Premier. That’s another reason for my bad mood, as it really did come down in the second half that we’ll be spending yet another season trapsing around various shitholes in Kent and Essex, always wondering why we’re not higher up. Today should have shown us why. If it hasn’t, then ship up for the rest of the season or fuck right off now while we’ve still got a chance of scraping in fifth.

Folkestone was a bad day at the office. Billy Rickay was a first official warning. I’ve no idea what today would be, but repeat the same performance against BW and it’s P45 time, and heading down to the dole office to pick up £3.50 an hour cleaning tables at McDonalds. And I genuinely mean that. As said earlier, we’ve now blown automatic promotion. The best we can hope for is second and maybe come good at the right time. But I shouldn’t have to be writing this. I should have been writing today that we overcame a couple of difficult games and are back on track. But I’m not, and that’s why I’m fucked off.

Yes, we drew, but as far as I’m concerned it was a loss. We had no discernable attack to speak off in the second half, and we needed Jon Main going off like Barack Obama needs Bill Clinton at a supporters rally. Again, that’s not the sign of a team ready to go up. Yes, we may have a weakened defence. Well, strengthen it. It’s been hinted this week that a couple more players might come in, and a couple go out. Make them defenders, because if we lose JG for whatever reason we really will be fucked good and hard up the arse.

Sorry to go way OTT. Actually, fuck it – I’m not sorry to go way OTT. The only time I’ll be sorry is if I end up in court over anything I say. But today I saw a team that thinks it’s Conference level bottle it. Yes, you read that correctly – I said bottle it. Again, a 2-0 loss becomes a 2-2 draw. That’s what cost DA his job, and TB has got to ensure it doesn’t become a habit under him.

I would say roll on Tuesday, but all of a sudden I’m really not looking forward to it any longer…

Plus points: We didn’t lose I suppose.

Minus points: Where to start? OK – letting in two goals. Shit passing. Shit defending. Shit way of taking hold of the game. Jon Main breaking his metatatarsel metatarcil metatarsle foot and is out for at least six weeks. Marcus Gayle’s lack of pace. Fergie having one of his days – where’s the Steve Ferguson that slaughtered Staines at their place? Looking more likely to lose than win. Chelmsford winning. Chelski winning. Running out of bottles of water in my car. Two DVDs I burnt failed to work. Tea slightly too hot….

The referee’s a……..: Managed to miss two rather, ahem, “strong” challenges. Apart from that, we can’t really blame him for much. Well, we can, but that would be a bit too churlish. Even for us.

Them: Like Folkestone and like Rickay, took advantage of our obvious failings and again could have got three points. One of their players decided the best way of stopping JM getting a hat-trick was a well aimed stamp.

Point to ponder: We had 2733 there today, so why is it that we always, always manage to put a stinker in for the extra 2-300 people who turn up? There’s a semi-joking theory that we’d be in the Conference now if we only had 1400 turning up to watch us. I say “semi-joking” because right now I’ve lost my sense of humour.

Truth is stranger than fiction: (1) Apparently, a flock of parakeets fly over KM at an exact time every Saturday. Today they were later than usual. No doubt somebody will claim it’s to do with the position of the sun setting. Me, I think they couldn’t bear to watch what was happening. (2) This is the second time this season we have let slip a 2 goal lead to Tonbridge. At least the first time round we had a ready made excuse with the goalies. What’s the excuse this time? (3) JG’s black eye. Nasty. (4) Realising that this time next week we’ll probably have beaten Torquay in the best performance for years and everyone will be talking about Wembley.

Anything else? Yeah, Franchise lost 1-0 to a 10 men Rochdale. Are they slipping up like we hoped they would? Or is it just a blip and they’ll come back soon enough, winning the Fourth Division at a canter, and 20k schoolkids cram into the Wankiedome with their leader doing that sickly smile, and a rush of puff pieces appear in the press to signify just how good it all was and how it was right to move? Christ, when even Franchise losing doesn’t cheer me up, things must really be bad….

So, was it worth it? Yes, I enjoy being a miserable cunt after watching abject whale wank.

In a nutshell: Two points from a possible nine.