So yet again we're on Tuesday morning and after another defeat I'm really struggling to muster up the enthusiasm to write a blog that will be efficient enough to be readable. Which is a shame as it was actually a rather lively day out which again was only marred by the the most important thing; the football. Nevertheless I'll try and give this one a go.
The day had 'messy' written all over it the minute I walked into Weatherspoons just after 9AM for my first pint, which went down like Luis Suarez whenever someone makes contact with him. I'd met Sappo, Jared and a very hungover Martyn McGarrigle in Beanos cafe where I had ordered a sausage baguette. It tasted very average and rather suprisingly I wasn't able to eat it all. In fact I wouldn't digest anything for at least another 13 hours; a rather impressive feat for a fat cunt like me, I'm sure you'd agree.
Sappo is one of those annoying fuckers that spends most of his time in a pub on the fruit machines. He's one of those gambling addicts that will always boast when they've made a bit of money while ignoring the fact their output of money will always largely outweight what they rake in. So while him and Jared bored their time and wasted their money away on the evil fruit machines I sat with an increasingly lethargic Martyn, who had been out on the piss the previous 12 hours and had not had a wink of sleep.
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| Ben Mitchell with Lee Dixon at Thurrock last season |
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| Martyn Mcgarriggle; AKA Phil's unwanted son |
Anyway, Martyn was sulking after recently finding out the slag who he stole off Jared had moved found another boyfriend a week after splitting up with him. Naturally I felt absolutely no sympathy for him and laughed directly at his plight, while he amusingly spoke of his plans to beat up her new fella while failing to realise the ironic way in which he pulled her in the first place.
After a couple of dangerously-early pints we headed off towards the station to catch the 10:44 to Ebbsfleet and were confused by the distinct lack of Dover fans at the stations. Our train leader Phil Smith ended up staying at his birds house the previous night so was going via a different route. Without his presence there was a lack of communication and we felt confused that nobody had turned up with only 8 minutes to go so we decided to pop over the platform and get onto the train. We greeted Russell over there whom was on the train from his home village, Scummy Aylesham, and popped onto the front of our train to get ourselves a nice table seat. With only a few minutes remaining, we were joined by a late onslaught of people; father Snell, Alex Wilshaw, Adrian, Fish and Kieren Dodd, a welcome newcomer to the away day scene. Liam Beale made a rare appearence along with Malcolm, who found himself travelling to yet another DAFC game even when his 'beloved' Addicks we at home to Carlisle.
For somewhere that's in Kent Dirtford is a bit of a shitter to get to via train. Usually we go via Gillingham but there were engineering works so we took the hi-speed train, and had to make changes at both Ebbsfleet and Gravesend in order to get there. The journey up was an enjoyable one with everyone in good spirits, apart from Martyn who felt as rough as Michael Barrymore's ringpiece and was on the receiving end of some horrendous abuse. Again, the journey consisted of the usual scummy working-class football fans banter with me and Sappo doing some bird watching of the human variety, rating all the females around us out of ten.
At Gravesend station we were joined by Josh Watkins, another new-comer to the DAFC scene. He seems to have jumped on the DAFC bandwagon at a strange time; one where we the team are constantly underpeforming and the fact he has recently moved to Greenwich university from his Dover home. But he's a very nice lad and a very welcome addition to the crew.
Also joining us where 3 Ebbsfleet fans who being part-time scummers, sacked off their long trip to Barrow in order to cheer Dover on against their hated rivals. See, nobody likes Dartford. Barda (Jeff) of conference south forum fame along with a lass called Amy met us and i'm very familar with them having met them twice before. They also had some chap called James with them, who funnily enough looked like a dead ringer for James Corden.
As someone who feels no particular amosity towards Gravesend and Ebbsfleet International FC, its a friendship that I feel not an ounce of shame about. We exchange a lot of banter with us being 'feeder league French scum' whereas they're a club that sold out their soul and principles to be named after a fictional place, a train station.
We arrived into Dirtford at around 12:15PM with the main priority for most us being that we needed to empty our bladders after being stuck on one of those shitty trains without toilets. Then we met Phil, Neil Patterson and 'Boring' John outside the station and agreed to head straight to the weatherspoons; always a safe bet for a cheap drink to get started.
Not that I had to worry about the prices of beer with my father in tow. Pretty much every single time I went to the bar he'd wade in with the money to pay for it! Not that I'm complaining at his genorisity at all, in fact I was rather grateful at returning home with twenty plus quid still in my wallet. So I kick-started things with a pint of tuborg and a cheeky jaigerbomb as you do.
We stayed in there for enough time to have a couple of pints, while most of the others ordered burgers to go along with their beers. Russell was continuing his reputation as the worlds slowest drinker as he slugged through a massive bottle of tyskie, while me and Phil mainly continued to catch up with the Webbedfeet fans. Also joining us in here was my good pal ginger Christopher Hunt, who unfortunately can only make a limited amount of games now he lives in West London with his new wife and baby son. T'was great to see him though although he continiously annoyed me by poncing cigerrettes off of me. Another ginger also joined us from their London home, ginger Jonathan Pring.
We walked up to the next pub without the Grimsend crew who were faffing about at the cash-point. Can't remember the name of the place but it was a haven for real-ale drinkers but at £3.50 a Fosters it wasn't ideal for those of us who enjoy drinking fizzy piss. We sat out in the nicely patio-ed beer garden despite the weather being increasingly ice-cold. Un-suprisingly, Martyn became the focal point of everyones piss-taking once again and even the Gravesendia lot joined in on our institutionalised bullying of him.
With time running out we only made this a swift one (although not in Russell's case!) and prepared to leave for the Ivy, our final destination before the ground. Its quite a decent pub in there although the surroundings are very cramped inside. In there we met Uncle John, who true to his word drove down to the game after finishing work at midday aswell as the Dartford scum with it being their traditional pre-match boozer. Still, it was nice to meet Grassbank who, despite his football allegiences, is a top bloke. Its always nice to catch up with him on issues such as Welling's dire finances, JgFc and their pursuit for a new striker, which might not be necessary after their teams display. I was also introduced to a few other Dirtford fans, which was uncomfortable given I feel dirty enough just liking the one. Mouth Cake seemed allright though and could certainly a match me in the overweight stakes.
Speaking of being overweight, one thing I did enjoy was Jeff being really honest and taking the piss out of my weight, rather than pretending it was an issue that didn't exist, like some people I meet do.
Its no suprise that i'm horrendously obese though, with my impressive drinking skills. After necking 1.5 pints in quick succession, I was fairly half-cut and ready to make the short walk to Princess Park just in time for kick-off. With it being my fourth visit there i'm now pretty familar to the place, and was aware of the horrendously tight turnstiles that us fatso's struggle to get through. I'm not sure whether I paid the full price to get in or not or whether I used my puppa to get me as a child. I think it was the latter judging by how little money I managed to spend.
After setting up my couple of flags and a touching minute's round of applause for the recently deceased Gary Speed, we were ready to go and the whistle blew for the game to kick-off. The Jollyboys were in fine form and outsinging the masses, despite a smaller-than-usual Dover contigent behind the goal.
Unfortunately it didn't take long for Dartford to take the lead and leave everyone thinking "oh fuck, here we go again". Only 7 minutes had passed on the clock when Olly Schulz needlessly and clumsily stuck out a high foot just inside the area to give them an early penalty. Adam Green stuck it away into the bottom left corner although Ruiz can count himself unfortunate to not make any contact with it.
Here are the highlights for anyone who wants to put themselves through that again.
Fortunately the players and even the fans responded well to the setback, continuing to sing in fine voice. We got our equaliser on the quartar hour mark when Battipedia headed in from a superb Barry Cogan set-piece. The manic celebrations that ensued left poor Kieran Dodd with a sprained ankle but a jubiliant travelling support for a team that hadn't scored from a set-piece in god-knows-how-long.
We continued to play well in a first half of few chances, which would give off mis-leading encouraging signs for the second half. James Rogers and Jon Wallis continued to play well against us for the Darts and both were on the receiving end of some stick. Rogers received chants insiuating that we have all shagged his wife while Wallis was getting repeated shouts of "Judas" from an irate Russell.
I walked round to the side to the gate with Russell where all the filthy smokers were allowed outside to have a puff, as Dartford is one of them shitty grounds with a no-smoking rule implemented. I whispered to him that I thought we were playing really encouragingly and felt that although I would settle for a draw, we could actually go onto win the game if we continued in the same manner as the first. Famous last words!
I met for the first time and had a brief chat with one of the Dover express reporters, Sam Inkersole, who was there to report on what a DAFC away game is like. Its a shame the game didn't end at half-time as the article would be a lot more positive than what it might turn out to be.
Anyway second half; we were dogshit. We came out looking like the side completely devoid of confidence we have seen of late and ended up deservedly losing the game. Our defence had a shocker with Wynter particular getting torn a new one down the left side.
We had one golden opportunity to take the lead when the ball kindly fell to Barry Cogan inside the box but his contact was weak and went straight into their goalkeepers greatful palms.
Instead, they took the lead moments later when they were awarded a free-kick just outside the box. I said out loud "this one is going in" in an attempt of reverse psychology but the lowly drilled free-kick ended up taking a deflection and going into the bottom corner.
The mood amongst the Dover faithful turned sombre and I don't think we had a single shot in the remaining 25 minutes of the game. As I kept pointing out after the game, I think there has only been one occasion this season where we have come from behind to win a game, which was against a poor Wroxham side in the FA Cup who were streats beneath us in quality. Even subsitute Billy Bricknell, making his long awaited comeback was unable to inspire us.
So rather than fighting back to get into the game, Darts continued to up the pressure and Ruiz was doing his best to keep the scoreline. Unfortunately he could do nothing about the third goal as Elliot Bradbook smashed in a 30 yard curler with 5 minutes remaining on the clock. At this point I had tipped over boiling point, undid my flags and fucked off out of the ground with Sappo before I could stomach seeing Dirtford fans celebrate even further. Having been pretty silent for most of the game their "Can you hear us over there" chants really fucking grated me and I decided that was enough for me. I think this is only the second time I have left a game before full-time due to being angry and upset. I don't regret it either. Such a feeble, passion-less and sorry excuse for a second half performance left me feeling let down by the players more than I have at any point this season.
The walk back to the Ivy seemed to take a helluva lot longer than the walk to the ground did, but once we got there I was relieved to have a pint in my hands. Amusingly the landlord warned me and Sappo against singing any football songs which we laughed off. Why would we be any mood to sing songs?
We were soon joined by most of the other Dover lot who were in equally miserable spirits. Russell told me the tale of some twat around him who was blaming the dire performance on Jim Parmenter who apparently is only chairman of the club because 'he's in it for the money'. Naturally I laughed at such a suggestion and Russell said the guy was duely ridiculed. Of course the guy in question was part of this group that travelled on a seperate train to us - one-game a season merchants who turned out in the hope of possible aggrivation. Its a shame that Jim Parmenter has publicly made a statement in response to abuse from these guys but he should damn well know the core Dover support appreciate what he has achieved since taking over the club.
Anyway, most of the Dartford scum seemed very greatful to us for the simple 3 points and who can blame them. In fairness, most of them were very humble in victory when admittedly I would not conduct myself humbly if it was us that had picked up the three points. Every single one of them commented on how poor we were and how it was one of the worst Dover teams they had ever seen. Worryingly, someone said that Wallis told them that every single Dover player he still speaks to does not want to be at the club. While I was sceptical this could be shit-stirring bullshit, the on-pitch perfomances and lack of chemistry in the team suggests that this could well indeed be true.
The Gravesend fans were pretty impressed with our first-half vocal support but were completely unimpressed with our side and George Purcell in particular. They weren't suprised that Purcell has yet another poor game as they are adamant he is a one-trick pony and a poor footballer. While I have concerns they might be correct, I still have hopes for him if he gain re-gain his confidence. After all he did look superb in the first month of the season.
While a defeat to Dartford is always hard to get out of the system, getting absolutely hammered is a good way to forget your woes and that is exactly what we did. We spent a good number of pints in the Ivy. I remember telling Grassbank he looks like a character out of sesame street although I can't quite work out which one. I might have to do some research on that. We then all absolutely ribbed him when he went off home because he has to watch X-Factor with his wife. Pretty much everybody was doing the "oooooh friend" thing from the Inbetweeners at him.
We all decided we'd all have one more pint in the Weatherspoons before departing for home. At this point we were all pretty much absolutely wankered, particularly Jeff and Amy who were rather bolstorous at this point. Amy might have a vagina but she certainly has a vocabulary with a swearing density that could match mine.
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| Me, Amy, Adrian, Dodd and Chris Hunt |
If you know Chris Hunt at all you should be aware he has a calm but aggressive nature. Does that even make sense? Oh well. Anyway, once we got onto the train I felt a massive almighty slap to the back of my head, which was his way of saying 'goodbye'. I recall having some loud jokey verbal argument with Jeff before giving him a kiss as he left at Gravesend, along with most of the Dover fans.
Me, Russell and Phil continued on the train until swapping at Gillingham and Sittingbourne, where we bid our emotional goodbyes to Russell on our seperate busses. Phil was staying at his birds house so got off at Chestfield, a stop before mine. I think I ended up back home at about 9:30PM where I was greeted by my mother. Does anyone else go back and get asked the dreaded question "How did Dover get on today" by whatever female you have at home? I just tell my mum that we didn't even play. It stops the questions and small talk with someone who cannot relate to why you'd be pissed off and upset that your football team has lost a game.
I then treated myself to a fucking massive chinese takeaway, most of it which I was unable to eat but it made for cracking breakfast the following morning as I'm sure you can imagine.
I'm actually going to end this weeks blog on a different note for a change, I'm actually going to try and be POSITIVE. I'm bored shitless of rambling the same old negatives week after week so why not?
Bromley are our next opponents on Saturday and should provide us with a great opportunity to restore some confidence, seeing as they have lost seven on the bounce. We have a easy-looking run of games coming up which gives the perfect opportunity for our players to get a run of form going and prove to use that they actually give a fuck. It will be cold, it will be grim but i'm looking forward to seeing how things pan out over the next six weeks. I feel silly saying it but we could find ourselves right back in amongst the play-off picture. So Come On You Whites, lets get behind the club and try and ride through the current storm we're facing.
| Saturday 03 Dec 2011 | |||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Bromley | 1 | - | 3 | Eastbourne Borough | |
 (51) |
Brinkhurst (17) Austin (70) Treleaven (82) |
 |
|||
| Dartford | 3 | - | 1 | Dover | |
Hayes (63) Green (07) Bradbrook (89) |
Battipiedi (14) |
1,558 |
|||
| Farnborough | 2 | - | 1 | Truro City | |
| Page (06) Page (74) |
Yetton (81) |
427 |
|||
| Havant and W | 1 | - | 1 | Weston-S-Mare | |
| Cashman (46) |
Trowbridge (34) |
586 |
|||
| Maidenhead Utd | 0 | - | 1 | Dorchester | |
| Wilson (19) |
269 |
||||
| Thurrock | 1 | - | 2 | Staines Town | |
| Guy (54) |
Goodman (29) Everitt (91) |
219 |
|||
| Tonbridge Angels | 1 | - | 1 | Welling | |
| Pugh (16) Acheampong (04 og) |
631 |
||||
| Woking | 1 | - | 0 | Eastleigh | |
| Gray (48) |
1,610 | ||||
| Pos | Team | P | W | D | L | F | A | GD | Pts | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 |  |
Woking | 19 | 14 | 4 | 1 | 44 | 14 | 30 | 46 |
| 2 | |
Welling United | 19 | 12 | 4 | 3 | 43 | 26 | 17 | 40 |
| 3 |  |
Dartford | 18 | 11 | 4 | 3 | 38 | 21 | 17 | 37 |
| 4 | |
Chelmsford | 19 | 9 | 8 | 2 | 36 | 17 | 19 | 35 |
| 5 | |
Sutton United | 17 | 10 | 4 | 3 | 33 | 16 | 17 | 34 |
| 6 | |
Basingstoke Town | 17 | 8 | 6 | 3 | 32 | 21 | 11 | 30 |
| 7 | |
Dorchester | 21 | 9 | 2 | 10 | 26 | 30 | -4 | 29 |
| 8 | |
Dover | 19 | 7 | 7 | 5 | 27 | 21 | 6 | 28 |
| 9 | |
Weston-S-Mare | 19 | 8 | 4 | 7 | 34 | 32 | 2 | 28 |
| 10 | |
Tonbridge Angels | 20 | 8 | 4 | 8 | 35 | 38 | -3 | 28 |
| 11 | |
Boreham Wood | 19 | 8 | 4 | 7 | 23 | 26 | -3 | 28 |
| 12 | |
Truro City | 18 | 8 | 1 | 9 | 31 | 33 | -2 | 25 |
| 13 | |
Eastbourne Borough | 18 | 7 | 3 | 8 | 32 | 30 | 2 | 24 |
| 14 | |
Eastleigh | 19 | 7 | 3 | 9 | 24 | 31 | -7 | 24 |
| 15 | |
Havant and Waterlooville | 19 | 5 | 6 | 8 | 32 | 32 | 0 | 21 |
| 16 | |
Salisbury City | 17 | 5 | 4 | 8 | 24 | 29 | -5 | 19 |
| 17 | |
Farnborough | 19 | 5 | 4 | 10 | 25 | 44 | -19 | 19 |
| 18 | |
Bromley | 18 | 5 | 3 | 10 | 27 | 39 | -12 | 18 |
| 19 | |
Maidenhead United | 21 | 5 | 3 | 13 | 24 | 46 | -22 | 18 |
| 20 | |
Hampton & Richmond | 19 | 4 | 4 | 11 | 23 | 33 | -10 | 16 |
| 21 | |
Staines Town | 19 | 3 | 5 | 11 | 21 | 30 | -9 | 14 |
| 22 | |
Thurrock | 18 | 3 | 3 | 12 | 17 | 42 | -25 | 12 |
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