I'd only ever been to Eastleigh once before Saturday; I got the coach to our 2-1 win there in our first Conference South season while I missed our 2-0 win midweek there last season, so this would be my first train journey down there and my first visit to their town center.
So it was yet another ridiculous 6AM wake-up for myself. I made sure I had a long bath the evening before so I wouldn't have to waste even more sleep by getting up even earlier.
A large jug of coffee and a cigarette did the job to motivate me for this shitter of a journey. I picked up a still fully packaged copy of FourFourTwo, which happened to be the season preview addition for the 2008/2009 season.
Its amazing reading these copies from only a few years back and how much football can alter in such a short period of time. Fernando Torres was considered as one of the greatest strikers in the world at this point! And Plymouth Argyle were looking forward to a possible play-off push instead of battling to stay in the football league.
Anyway, I had to make the short journey across to planet Thanet to change at Ramsgate, where my train would pass through to pick the others up at Ashford. Now, I love putting really unnecessary details (AUTHOR NOTE: FEMALES - SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH) in this blog so I would just like to share the delightful moment of desperately needing a shit as I changed to get my connection at Ramsgate. I've only ever been for a poo once previously on a train in my life, so this is actually quite a significant moment, especially when you consider the amount of my lifetime I have spent travelling on trains. But I had breached the 'turtle -ing' point so I desperately needed to re-cooperate. It certainly let off some steam (quite literally) and although it was absolutely rancid, it was a relief to get that burden off of my shoulders (or out of my arsehole).
Now that was out of the way I think it was a reasonable time to start drinking, so I cracked on with the budweisers. My choice of drinkage for the journey will leave a lot to be desired (6 x bottles of budweiser, 1 big bottle of blue alcopop and four cans of Polish beer, including tyskie, lech, zubr and redd's). "FUCKING ALCOPOPS" I hear some of you cry. Well, its quite fantastic to mix with your shit lager (budweiser) and get pissed rather quickly, so matter how poofy it may sound. A recipe to get fucked!
I was quite eager to catch up with the others and I was relieved to approach Ashford at 8.25. We had a rather large crew with us for this one, well, by our standards anyway. Our leader Phil of course along with some seasoned regulars like Doozer the Speccy Cunt, Jared, Fish, Ginger Johnathan Pring, who was coming from Dover for a change and he brought a fellow ginger with him, who I think is called Steve. There was some suprise guest appearences like Malcolm, the Charlton supporting twat who has been missing in action for ages, Alex "Bigger forehead than Jesus" Wilshaw, 'Boring' John Otto, the legendary Leigh Piddlesden, 'Baldybollocks' Andy Lucey, and finally, the very special yet comical Ryan Reid. There was also some bloke and his son, who I keep forgetting the name of, so apologies if you are reading this!
A good mix of people there but I was probably pleased to see Malcolm more than anyone. He's an irritating annoying twat at the best of times but to use a term that I really despise using, we do have some great banter together and while we rip the piss out of each other, I think we do enjoy each others company. For example, he'll attempt to wind me up by saying how fit my sister and how he'd like to smash her, you know that sort of thing, while I'll company up with equally derogatory things about his sister. (Who by the way, has an absolutely smashing pair of tits and I would love to spaff of them). Then I have to take the brunt of the typical fat jokes that come my way, while I'll respond with remarks about how hideous his acne and acne scars are. I made one great remark that made the whole carriage crack up but sadly I've forgotten it already.
Although we only had about 30-40 minutes on here until we were to swap at Tonbridge, it was still pretty lively on here. We started playing the 'drink while you think' game, using footballers. You basically have to say a footballer's name I.E "Mesut Ozil" and on the next go you have to use a footballer beginning with the first letter of the surname, so after Ozil somebody would say Owen Hargreaves. Any time you are thinking up for a name on your go you have to keep drinking your beer until you come up with one. It sounds lame, but its good fun and your brain can completely freeze at times even though you know of so many footballers.
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| Fish contemplates on life. |
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| I did say Malcolm was pleased to be in my company! |
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| Paddy Lucey, Lechian Phil, Boring John. |
We hadn't been down this route to Redhill since our Ryman South days, so we spent time remembering some nostalgic moments from those years on such games to the likes of Burgess Hill, Horsham, Chipstead, Whyteleafe and the rest. We also began playing the drinking card game called 'higher or lower' on here, a game which I eluded to on my Dorchester blog in case you have forgotten. In case you need your memory jogged on what it is;
Any number of people can play High Low but only two participate at a time, one dealer and one player. The dealer turns over the top card of the deck to start. The player must then guess whether the next card will be higher or lower than the face-up card.
Each card is turned up and is placed in a used pile. If the player is correct 5 times in a row it becomes their turn to deal the cards and the dealer becomes the next victim with the used pile remaining. If the player gets less than 5 right answers in a row right they must take as many drinks as the card values in the used pile add up to upon guessing a wrong answer. Once a wrong answer is given the used pile is cleared and the player starts over. If after guessing the card it is a match the player skips the card and can give the amount of the card in drinks to other participants. The object of the game is to get 5 in a row and pass to the next player unless you are really trying to get Hammered.
I have to admit, this game got me quite merry this early in the day already. By the time we left the train at Redhill (9.45AM!) I had already finished my buds, which had been washed down with the fizzy alcopop shit. Nobody really got that badly caught out by the game though. Fish was really struggling to get through one game but luckily for him, our arrival at Redhill put halt to his drinking shortcomings.
As with all the other stops, Redhill provided a good excuse for a fag break as we waited for our next train. When it finally pulled up we were annoyed to find a pretty packed train and thus sparse seats, but once the train stopped at Gatwick half the fuckers got off and we found more space.
Unfortunately for some poor girl, she would have to share the table she was on with a group of non-league spastics. Worst of all, who rocked up next to her? Martyn, of course.
He yet again embarrassingly tried (and failed!) to chat her up. She was some minging and up-her-own-arse student, but Martyn thought he would try and engage in some intellectual conversation with her but as usual he came up well short. The most cringe-worthy part was when he asked he for a kiss as she prepared to the leave the train. The immediate rejection made me piss myself laughing.
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| The two stunners |
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| But even if Martyn is ugly, at least he doesn't have three chins like moi. |
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| Classy as ever |
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| Fish contemplates what it would be like to get a blowie off of Heather Trott. |
Yeah, this was a fairly humourous journey. I cracked onto my Polish beers here and as expected they really hit me. Tyskie and Zubr were pretty decent but the Redd's was pretty it nasty. It described itself as an apple beer but it just tasted like a horrid cider and I really don't go down well with cider.
We mainly continued playing some more higher or lower on here, while Alex and Martyn decided to engage in singing some anti-Margaret Thatcher songs. I'm not exactly the biggest fan of the rancid old slag but I didn't really see the benefit of it, other than winding up the right-wing troll that is Malcolm.
We had to make yet another change here at some place called Farnham, which I must confess I'd never heard of before. But I don't mind these changes when they give the opportunities of fag breaks, and a quick sing-song on the platforms to annoy/let the locals know who we are.
Dave Waterfield met us from here, I had no idea where he had come from before but I wasn't expecting him to make an appearance.We mainly continued playing some more higher or lower on here, while Alex and Martyn decided to engage in singing some anti-Margaret Thatcher songs. I'm not exactly the biggest fan of the rancid old slag but I didn't really see the benefit of it, other than winding up the right-wing troll that is Malcolm.
We had to make yet another change here at some place called Farnham, which I must confess I'd never heard of before. But I don't mind these changes when they give the opportunities of fag breaks, and a quick sing-song on the platforms to annoy/let the locals know who we are.
Luckily it was only a short little jaunt to Eastleigh from me but I managed to spill half a can of Carlsberg down myself thus complete soaking my jeans in watered down lager.
So we arrived in Eastleigh at our expected arrival of 12:10PM and I must admit I was pretty half gone here already. I hadn't drunk that much on a train journey probably since I was under-age and I would soon live to regret that.
We assembled ourselves in the weatherspoons just opposite their station and were greeted by Josh "can't session" Watkins, whom had made his own way from London Bridge. The only one who had failed to show up was Uncle John, who eventually made some feeble excuse about having had a dodgy curry the previous evening and was consequently suffering from the shits. Sadly, this happens a good few times a season but he never seems to learn from it?
I broke my recently adopted "eating is cheating" attitude by deciding I needed some food here to soak up the alcohol, so ordered my patterned breaded chicken gourmet meal with a pint of tuborg, which would turn out to be a decision I would regret. I bonded with Malcolm for a while here as we settled down on a two seater table with each other.
Annoyingly it was one of them really slow weatherspoons and it took an absolute mission for our food to arrive. Well I say a mission but in reality it was about 25 minutes, but that is still about 2 or 3 times the normal amount of time you can expect to wait.
Worst still, it was completely overcooked. I enjoyed it because I was very hungry, but it was a pretty poor effort by their usual high standards. Not impressed.
This meal had also left me with really annoying hiccups which lasted for an excruciating spell of 20 minutes or so. I abandoned my half-drunk pint to slip off to the sainsbury's and stock up on some cigarettes but for some reason I also picked up a ginsters peppered steak slice for the simple fact it was half price at 74p. You just can't turn down those prices can you?
I re-entered the pub feeling pretty shitty and bloated on beer. With my half drunk pint still there I decided to top it up with a cherry flavoured alcopop but it still wasn't having the desired effect. I was really struggling to drink in here. I think we stayed here until about 2PM. After finishing that turbo-shandy I only purchased 1 more pint of Lager which I disgracefully left a third of it behind. More disgracefully, I couldn't stomach the prospect of ale after all my good efforts in drinking it recently.
We only stayed in the weatherspoons because we had heard from nearly every single source that their town center is a shithole with absolutely no pubs worth bothering with. It is widely acclaimed as one of the worst away days in the league and you can see why.
I don't recall too much of anything of significance happening here. I know that with it being St.Patricks day nearly everybody ended up with free guiness hats. The pub was full of Southampton shirts and Southampton fans, even though they were playing in Millwall. You can see why though - its only one stop down the line on the train and can't be more than ten minutes away from the St Mary's.
But there was also some really annoying fuckwit in a Nottingham Forest shirt here who kept trying to get into our photos and being a general pain in the arse.
The two special ones, AKA Reidy and Jared, who I have affectioniately labelled 'dumb and dumber' had a mini-falling out about something but I honestly can't remember why. All I know is that Jared was walking around with a face like a slapped arse, helping to reinforce the "he is always the victim" notion.
I vaguely remember some of our lot were being pain in the arses by singing some Dover songs in here and promptly got told off by one of the PMT-ridden barmaids which was pretty comical. The blokes working in there found it and found us a pretty funny bunch, even if we're annoying at the best of times.
Finally, who the fuck was that boy who joined us in there? One of our lads knew him and he came to the game with us but I never found out who or what he was.
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| He's Jared the victim, he sulks when he wants! |
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| Annoying Forest Cunt with the victim. |
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| Mugshot of a mug. |
We ordered a load of taxis to take us to the ground at about 2pm, it might have been earlier than that because we arrived at the Silverlake stadium a lot earlier than we do for most away games. Its yet another ground in this league that requires a taxi ride to the ground, which is never ideal, particularly when the ground is as bad as Eastleigh's! It was a good couple of miles in the taxi but nowhere near as out-of-town as Salisbury.
I was pissed as a fart as we got out in the club car park. Without my fictional father Andy Lucey, who was in a cab a few minutes behind us, I had to work out a way of mugging yet another turnstile operator in this league off. So I put on this silly England hat, crouched down, put on a baby voice and went for an under 16...... FAIL! The bloke on the turnstile said I needed to show some I.D but then strangely told me to try a different turnstile and so I did...... SUCCESS. Its amazing how I keep getting away with this when I weigh the same mass as a small country and have my own gravitational pull.
Right then chaps, into the bar, time to renew acquaintances with the rest of the Dover fans, mainly those who had took the coach down. The bar itself was pretty modern but was spacious, had a pool table and a dart board if I remember correctly. Nothing fantastic but not a bad clubhouse for this level. The prices were pretty good though - £2 for pints of Carlsberg, John Smith's and Strongbow I believe. Of course I opted for the former, but yet again completely struggled to get it down my traphole. When I went outside to have a smoke and chat with Champ, he remarked how pale I looked. And I certainly did not feel myself, usually buzzing at this point on a matchday.
I sat down on a table with Reg, Andy Fisher and the Butler's while watching the remainder of the FA Cup QF between Everton and Sunderland, really struggling to finish off my beer. But I eventually forced it down myself which turned out to be a bad idea.
I quickly dashed off to the toilet, where luckily nobody else was in there, and just CHUNDERED EVERYWHERE! (Well, got it all down the toilet bowl anyway). Not one of my best moments for sure but it was actually a huge relief and burden off me. I immedietly felt better but decided against staying in there, even with a good 15-20 minutes to kick off.
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| Fish feeling at home in Jesus's company. |
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| The joys of following Dover on the road. |
Righteo, moving on. As I alluded on earlier, this was my first visit to their ground in 2 and a half years and I had honestly forgotten what a shit sterile place it is. No disrespect if there are any floating Eastleigh readers for whatever reason, but I really can't stand the Silverlake. The ground is pretty much flat all of the way round excepted for a small seated stand behind one goal and a pretty decent main stand on one side of the pitch. But behind one goal, the one which we were attacking in the first half, there was absolutely no cover or terracing at all. A really shit place to watch football I'm afraid.
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| Awful, just awful. |
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| Sexy, sexy Martin. |
Its good news then that their new owners have put the stadium up for sale for some reason and are apparently looking to move elsewhere. It all sounds dodgy as fuck to me (their new owner runs some insurance company I believe) but good luck to them anyway.
Right then, onto the soccer. What a pleasant change our first half performance was from Tuesday night! It was great to see Donovan Simmonds back in the side on the right hand side, while Dixon made his way back into the line up (he had some nice touches but he still seemed unfit) while Huke had to come in for Tom Wynter, which meant Starkey was moved to left-back.
We actually managed to keep the ball on the floor and played some really nice stuff at times.
Billy Bricknell continued his great run of form by give us the lead after twenty minutes. A long in-swinging corner from Cogan found Bricknell at the back post and he tapped in to and empty net to send us pretty spastic behind their awful goal. It was comically bad goalkeeping by their goalkeeper I must admit, but we certainly made the most of it.
But it wasn't long before the tuts of "here we fucking go again" were being made by us as Eastleigh equalised four minutes later. A slip by Shane Huke at the back enabled Chris Flood to be let in to fire past Ruiz. I know I'm not the biggest fan of Shane but he had a pretty decent game other than that cock-up, so I won't hammer into him.
Luckily this goal coincided with a ten minute spell of madness, as more atrocious defending saw us regain the advantage just a few minutes later. Cogan took a long-distance free kick that he floated into the box, which somehow managed to elude all the players and the goalkeeper was not prepared and it just found the back of the net. One of those goals that provokes laughter as well as delight!
But yeah, really pleased with the way we played first half. We had chances to extend our lead but Purcell was wasteful on a couple of occasions.
Nearly all the Dover fans that traveled up by train were absolutely wankered before the game even kicked off. We spent the first half looking like a right group of special mongtards, attempting to sing songs even though it was impossible to get an atmosphere going. Reidy kept on dropping his hat onto the pitch and the jumping over to regain it while the stewards just looked on. Phil Smith was in a hilarious drunk state that he gets in where he's slurring his words and abusing the goalkeeper. Great stuff.
For about the 5th or 6th away game running I decided to dodge half time pint instead congregating behind the other goal. Not because I didn't have the time or money but because I felt it would be best to take an extended break from not drinking. But then I realised I had a can of lech in my bag anyway and began guzzling that! Until half of it got spilt over the stand when we were celebrating our 3rd goal anyway.
Listen up. The second half was barely the full three minutes old when Billy "He scores when he wants" Bricknell gave us a two goal cushion. A quite fantastic ball by Glen Southam (our best long-range passer since Alan Pouton) set Bill through on goal and he side-stepped the goalkeeper before confident sticking the ball into the back of the onion sack. Absolutely splendid stuff, which set us into a full blown part atmosphere behind the goal. This seated stand wasn't actually too bad for getting an atmosphere going. We were very noisy for most of the second half, bar the squeaky bum time moments.
Sadly we shut up shop from here onwards and would have to contain some pretty strong pressure from the Big-spending Eastleigh side, who are rumoured to have Bradley Bubb on a £845 contract. We spent the vast majority of the second half trying to hold on as fatigue and nerves appeared to kick in.
When shitty journeyman Lee Peacock headed them a goal back from a corner with 20 minutes to go, I spent the remainder of the half convinced that they were going to worm there way back into the game. But thankfully they never did, despite some awesome last-ditch defending, a superb save from Ruiz that got tipped just over the bar and then some great time wasting by the charismatic Venezuelan between the sticks. They were mainly reduced to headed efforts from long balls floated into the box, but thankfully none of their attempts fell in the right places.
The final whistle was greeted with jubilation and hugs all-round as we celebrated what is a fantastic away win against one of the big spenders in the division. We were made to work hard for it but we played very well in spells and in my opinion, deserved the 3 points. News filtered through of Chelmsford losing their third game on the bounce at Sutton, meaning we now find ourselves just 3 points off them with a game in hand. Pretty crazy, eh? If we continue to play like that then we should have no problems making them but we have to reach a high point of consistency. I'm sick of being jubilant one game to being stupidly fickle the next but we are unbeaten in five and I'm fairly confident of a positive result at Farnborough tomorrow evening.
One final thing regarding Eastleigh. They are notorious for inflating their attendances to make them seem bigger than they are. I chortled when the attendance was announced as 500. There was probably around 80-100 Dovorians behind the goal in the second half, while around the rest of the ground there couldn't have been more than 250 people. It was laughable.
With all that said an done, it was time for a beer to celebrate I think? But we already had taxis booked for just after 5 and the game didn't finish until 4:55, so we didn't have time for a celebratory, rub-it-in-the-home-fans-faces drink. There was time to have some of their food that was being flogged cheaply though. All pies and pasties were reduced to 50P so Phil, the fat fucking legend snapped up four chunky pies and devoured the lot! Absolute legend.
I sadly passed up the opportunity for some reason though.
Anyway, we got a back to the Sainsbury's which was only a minute walk from the station to grab some much needed lager for the journey back. Me, Johnny Pring and Josh threesed up on a 20-can crate of Carlsberg for £12, which was not a too bad price at all. One of the cabs carrying some of our lot turned up late and they had only a limited time to get to Sainsbury's. Martyn, desperate to grab some beer, ran across the road and almost ran straight into a car, but sadly the brilliance slowing down of the driver in the car meant he wasn't returning home in a body bag.
He needn't have rushed anyway because our train was delayed by quite a while so we decided to get a train to Waterloo instead, as Phil agreed that they would blag to go down that route with their tickets. To be honest, the ticket conductors all day never properly checked our tickets because they looked like they couldn't be arsed to deal with a group of pissed up football fans.
Right then, onto the soccer. What a pleasant change our first half performance was from Tuesday night! It was great to see Donovan Simmonds back in the side on the right hand side, while Dixon made his way back into the line up (he had some nice touches but he still seemed unfit) while Huke had to come in for Tom Wynter, which meant Starkey was moved to left-back.
We actually managed to keep the ball on the floor and played some really nice stuff at times.
Billy Bricknell continued his great run of form by give us the lead after twenty minutes. A long in-swinging corner from Cogan found Bricknell at the back post and he tapped in to and empty net to send us pretty spastic behind their awful goal. It was comically bad goalkeeping by their goalkeeper I must admit, but we certainly made the most of it.
But it wasn't long before the tuts of "here we fucking go again" were being made by us as Eastleigh equalised four minutes later. A slip by Shane Huke at the back enabled Chris Flood to be let in to fire past Ruiz. I know I'm not the biggest fan of Shane but he had a pretty decent game other than that cock-up, so I won't hammer into him.
Luckily this goal coincided with a ten minute spell of madness, as more atrocious defending saw us regain the advantage just a few minutes later. Cogan took a long-distance free kick that he floated into the box, which somehow managed to elude all the players and the goalkeeper was not prepared and it just found the back of the net. One of those goals that provokes laughter as well as delight!
But yeah, really pleased with the way we played first half. We had chances to extend our lead but Purcell was wasteful on a couple of occasions.
Nearly all the Dover fans that traveled up by train were absolutely wankered before the game even kicked off. We spent the first half looking like a right group of special mongtards, attempting to sing songs even though it was impossible to get an atmosphere going. Reidy kept on dropping his hat onto the pitch and the jumping over to regain it while the stewards just looked on. Phil Smith was in a hilarious drunk state that he gets in where he's slurring his words and abusing the goalkeeper. Great stuff.
For about the 5th or 6th away game running I decided to dodge half time pint instead congregating behind the other goal. Not because I didn't have the time or money but because I felt it would be best to take an extended break from not drinking. But then I realised I had a can of lech in my bag anyway and began guzzling that! Until half of it got spilt over the stand when we were celebrating our 3rd goal anyway.
Listen up. The second half was barely the full three minutes old when Billy "He scores when he wants" Bricknell gave us a two goal cushion. A quite fantastic ball by Glen Southam (our best long-range passer since Alan Pouton) set Bill through on goal and he side-stepped the goalkeeper before confident sticking the ball into the back of the onion sack. Absolutely splendid stuff, which set us into a full blown part atmosphere behind the goal. This seated stand wasn't actually too bad for getting an atmosphere going. We were very noisy for most of the second half, bar the squeaky bum time moments.
Sadly we shut up shop from here onwards and would have to contain some pretty strong pressure from the Big-spending Eastleigh side, who are rumoured to have Bradley Bubb on a £845 contract. We spent the vast majority of the second half trying to hold on as fatigue and nerves appeared to kick in.
When shitty journeyman Lee Peacock headed them a goal back from a corner with 20 minutes to go, I spent the remainder of the half convinced that they were going to worm there way back into the game. But thankfully they never did, despite some awesome last-ditch defending, a superb save from Ruiz that got tipped just over the bar and then some great time wasting by the charismatic Venezuelan between the sticks. They were mainly reduced to headed efforts from long balls floated into the box, but thankfully none of their attempts fell in the right places.
The final whistle was greeted with jubilation and hugs all-round as we celebrated what is a fantastic away win against one of the big spenders in the division. We were made to work hard for it but we played very well in spells and in my opinion, deserved the 3 points. News filtered through of Chelmsford losing their third game on the bounce at Sutton, meaning we now find ourselves just 3 points off them with a game in hand. Pretty crazy, eh? If we continue to play like that then we should have no problems making them but we have to reach a high point of consistency. I'm sick of being jubilant one game to being stupidly fickle the next but we are unbeaten in five and I'm fairly confident of a positive result at Farnborough tomorrow evening.
One final thing regarding Eastleigh. They are notorious for inflating their attendances to make them seem bigger than they are. I chortled when the attendance was announced as 500. There was probably around 80-100 Dovorians behind the goal in the second half, while around the rest of the ground there couldn't have been more than 250 people. It was laughable.
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| "Cheers keeper" |
With all that said an done, it was time for a beer to celebrate I think? But we already had taxis booked for just after 5 and the game didn't finish until 4:55, so we didn't have time for a celebratory, rub-it-in-the-home-fans-faces drink. There was time to have some of their food that was being flogged cheaply though. All pies and pasties were reduced to 50P so Phil, the fat fucking legend snapped up four chunky pies and devoured the lot! Absolute legend.
I sadly passed up the opportunity for some reason though.
Anyway, we got a back to the Sainsbury's which was only a minute walk from the station to grab some much needed lager for the journey back. Me, Johnny Pring and Josh threesed up on a 20-can crate of Carlsberg for £12, which was not a too bad price at all. One of the cabs carrying some of our lot turned up late and they had only a limited time to get to Sainsbury's. Martyn, desperate to grab some beer, ran across the road and almost ran straight into a car, but sadly the brilliance slowing down of the driver in the car meant he wasn't returning home in a body bag.
He needn't have rushed anyway because our train was delayed by quite a while so we decided to get a train to Waterloo instead, as Phil agreed that they would blag to go down that route with their tickets. To be honest, the ticket conductors all day never properly checked our tickets because they looked like they couldn't be arsed to deal with a group of pissed up football fans.
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| "My name is Jared and I'm a fucking pikey" |
Ahh, what a strange journey this was back. It started in absolute carnage but ended on a massive sour note. We got onto this small carriage of the train and began being our general nuisance selves by singing loudly and talking rubbish. There were a group of lads from Woking in this part of the train with us and they seemed to find us to be quite an amusing bunch. Did they support Woking FC? Did they fuck. Southampton fans like everybody else in that part of the world.
Then there was Martyn "No-morals" Mcgarrigle being an absolutely bellend. He dropped his empty baccy tin while he went off to the toilet, so loads of us began stamping on it until it became completely squashed. Haha.
This was in response to him telling everybody that "he supports the IRA". This is one of the main reasons why I can understand why Russell despises him so much because he can be a completely thoughtless, inappropriate twat at the best of times.
Anyway, it was funny watching him squirm and back-tracking while Pringy questioned him over why he thought it was amusing that he supports terrorists who like blowing innocent people up. The only reason he could muster up was because of the failed attempt at killing Thatcher in the 1984 Brighton hotel bombing because he hates her. But he really got torn a new arsehole on this discussion as you can imagine and hilariously back-tracked at times, before claiming he wasn't Pro-IRA, instead just an anti-monarchist. Ok Martyn.
A funny and wild train journey soon went downhill though. First we heard news of Fabrice Muamba collapsing on the pitch in the Spuds v Bolton FA Cup tie. Despite the fact none of us know Fabrice and in the general scheme of things its not really relevant to us, there was still a massive sense of shock and sadness from us. It brought back memories of when Ex-Dover striker Paul Sykes died on the pitch playing for Folkestone, and Phil knew him pretty well from his cricket. We were under the impression at that point that he was likely to die and were just waiting confirmation for his death so we felt our own game at Eastleigh paled into insignificance. I couldn't be more relieved a few hours later to hear he was in a stable condition. I wish the best of luck to Muamba in his recovery and its quite awe-inspiring of how football fans united in the midst of the terrible news.
Sadly, Ryan Reid was playing up and being an idiot while some of us were requesting for silence. As I've said before, he's not the sharpest tool in the box (in fact probably the bluntest) so he didn't really understand the severity of what had happened. Instead he got aggressive when everyone told him to shut up and then he tried to start on Alex, because apparently he had said something under his breath about him. And thus me, Malcolm and a few others had to physically restrain Reidy while he was going schizo, while avoiding the temptation to hit him ourselves because he was so damn annoying.
It was pretty tragically hilarious at the same time though to be fair. Reidy began crying and eventually apologized for being a dick-head which is fair enough, but at the same time he needs to stop acting like a twat if he wants to be treated like an adult.
Then there was Martyn "No-morals" Mcgarrigle being an absolutely bellend. He dropped his empty baccy tin while he went off to the toilet, so loads of us began stamping on it until it became completely squashed. Haha.
This was in response to him telling everybody that "he supports the IRA". This is one of the main reasons why I can understand why Russell despises him so much because he can be a completely thoughtless, inappropriate twat at the best of times.
Anyway, it was funny watching him squirm and back-tracking while Pringy questioned him over why he thought it was amusing that he supports terrorists who like blowing innocent people up. The only reason he could muster up was because of the failed attempt at killing Thatcher in the 1984 Brighton hotel bombing because he hates her. But he really got torn a new arsehole on this discussion as you can imagine and hilariously back-tracked at times, before claiming he wasn't Pro-IRA, instead just an anti-monarchist. Ok Martyn.
A funny and wild train journey soon went downhill though. First we heard news of Fabrice Muamba collapsing on the pitch in the Spuds v Bolton FA Cup tie. Despite the fact none of us know Fabrice and in the general scheme of things its not really relevant to us, there was still a massive sense of shock and sadness from us. It brought back memories of when Ex-Dover striker Paul Sykes died on the pitch playing for Folkestone, and Phil knew him pretty well from his cricket. We were under the impression at that point that he was likely to die and were just waiting confirmation for his death so we felt our own game at Eastleigh paled into insignificance. I couldn't be more relieved a few hours later to hear he was in a stable condition. I wish the best of luck to Muamba in his recovery and its quite awe-inspiring of how football fans united in the midst of the terrible news.
Sadly, Ryan Reid was playing up and being an idiot while some of us were requesting for silence. As I've said before, he's not the sharpest tool in the box (in fact probably the bluntest) so he didn't really understand the severity of what had happened. Instead he got aggressive when everyone told him to shut up and then he tried to start on Alex, because apparently he had said something under his breath about him. And thus me, Malcolm and a few others had to physically restrain Reidy while he was going schizo, while avoiding the temptation to hit him ourselves because he was so damn annoying.
It was pretty tragically hilarious at the same time though to be fair. Reidy began crying and eventually apologized for being a dick-head which is fair enough, but at the same time he needs to stop acting like a twat if he wants to be treated like an adult.
 |
| Bellend! |
We only had 7 minutes or so to catch our connection at Waterloo East, but this would provide the funniest and possible best overall moment of the day.
We made our way to the front of the train because that's normally where most of the train space is. Martyn got on a few carriages back but then decided to walk off of the train and walk up to the front instead of walking through the train.
I tell you what, when me and Malcolm turned round and looked out the window to see the four-eyed IRA-supporting morally corrupt cunt desperate scramble for the train as it began to pull away we began to piss ourselves in hysterics, while wanker-signing the desperate bastard on the platform. Certainly a fantastic moment and one that I will never erase from my memory.
But do you know what the best part of it was? He had to back via St Pancras and was forced to pay £36 because his ticket wasn't valid! Hahaha, gutted.
I only stayed on this train until Tonbridge, because I was changing at there, Strood and Faversham to get me back in at a reasonable time in Herne Bay. But there was still room for one more funny moment of the day.
Fish opened up a beer bottle but it quite spectacularly fizzed up in the air and hit the ceiling of the train. So one of the others dared Ryan to get up and lick the beer off of the ceiling to make amends for his earlier antics. And you know what? He actually did it!
We made our way to the front of the train because that's normally where most of the train space is. Martyn got on a few carriages back but then decided to walk off of the train and walk up to the front instead of walking through the train.
I tell you what, when me and Malcolm turned round and looked out the window to see the four-eyed IRA-supporting morally corrupt cunt desperate scramble for the train as it began to pull away we began to piss ourselves in hysterics, while wanker-signing the desperate bastard on the platform. Certainly a fantastic moment and one that I will never erase from my memory.
But do you know what the best part of it was? He had to back via St Pancras and was forced to pay £36 because his ticket wasn't valid! Hahaha, gutted.
I only stayed on this train until Tonbridge, because I was changing at there, Strood and Faversham to get me back in at a reasonable time in Herne Bay. But there was still room for one more funny moment of the day.
Fish opened up a beer bottle but it quite spectacularly fizzed up in the air and hit the ceiling of the train. So one of the others dared Ryan to get up and lick the beer off of the ceiling to make amends for his earlier antics. And you know what? He actually did it!
 |
| Fucking superb! |
Well what a fantastic way to end the day on. I still had a couple of hours to get home with an excruciatingly bad headache kicking in to get home, but overall it was another great day following the Whites on the road, even with all the negatives taken into consideration.
And I only have to wait until tomorrow for the next one! We are away to Farnborough which is annoyingly on a Wednesday evening instead of tonight, but it could be a cracker. I'm on my fourth coach trip of the season for this and I couldn't be more enthralled to discoverer that it is a free coach thanks to the generosity of Nick Cunningham, so that is an added bonus with money very tight and the prospect looming that I could be sacked on Thursday.
You know what, I'm actually quite positive for the game, if not anything else. Come on you Whites!
And I only have to wait until tomorrow for the next one! We are away to Farnborough which is annoyingly on a Wednesday evening instead of tonight, but it could be a cracker. I'm on my fourth coach trip of the season for this and I couldn't be more enthralled to discoverer that it is a free coach thanks to the generosity of Nick Cunningham, so that is an added bonus with money very tight and the prospect looming that I could be sacked on Thursday.
You know what, I'm actually quite positive for the game, if not anything else. Come on you Whites!
| Monday 19 Mar 2012 | |||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Boreham Wood | 1 | - | 1 | Salisbury | |
 Riza (65) | Losasso (59) |  255 | |||
| Saturday 17 Mar 2012 | |||||
| Basingstoke | 1 | - | 0 | Bromley | |
| Sam-Yorke (52) | 312 | ||||
| Dartford | 3 | - | 1 | Havant and W | |
| Noble (24) Harris (82) Wilkinson (88) | Pearce (08) | 1,087 | |||
| Eastleigh | 2 | - | 3 | Dover | |
| Flood (27) Peacock (70) | Bricknell (22) Cogan (30) Bricknell (49) | 513 | |||
| Farnborough | 0 | - | 1 | Weston-S-Mare | |
| Bergqvist (63) | Trowbridge (70) | 460 | |||
| Hampton & Richmond | 0 | - | 0 | Maidenhead Utd | |
 Tarpey (83) | 296 | ||||
| Salisbury | 0 | - | 2 | Boreham Wood | |
| Vilhete (33) Riza (48) | 525 | ||||
| Staines Town | 1 | - | 2 | Eastbourne Borough | |
| Nwokeji (12) | Watson (41) Brinkhurst (51) | 269 | |||
| Sutton Utd | 3 | - | 2 | Chelmsford | |
| Dundas (01) Telfer (46) Griffiths (71) | Whiteley (13) Rainford (81) Rainford (91) Tann (91) | 654 | |||
| Thurrock | 2 | - | 0 | Dorchester | |
Nesbitt (15) Boylan (60) | 176 | ||||
| Tonbridge Angels | 3 | - | 0 | Truro City | |
| Collin (41) Suarez (51) Browning (86) | 639 | ||||
| Woking | 2 | - | 1 | Welling | |
| Davis (37) Sole (47) | Parkinson (18) | 1,926 | |||
BLUE SQ SOUTH TABLE - MARCH 19 2012
| Pos | Team | P | W | D | L | F | A | GD | Pts | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 |  | Woking | 34 | 24 | 6 | 4 | 71 | 32 | 39 | 78 |
| 2 |  | Dartford | 33 | 21 | 7 | 5 | 74 | 33 | 41 | 70 |
| 3 | | Welling United | 34 | 20 | 6 | 8 | 68 | 45 | 23 | 66 |
| 4 | | Sutton United | 34 | 18 | 11 | 5 | 61 | 42 | 19 | 65 |
| 5 | | Chelmsford | 34 | 16 | 10 | 8 | 59 | 35 | 24 | 58 |
| 6 | | Dover | 33 | 14 | 13 | 6 | 53 | 35 | 18 | 55 |
| 7 | | Basingstoke Town | 33 | 13 | 10 | 10 | 50 | 42 | 8 | 49 |
| 8 | | Tonbridge Angels | 34 | 13 | 9 | 12 | 58 | 53 | 5 | 48 |
| 9 | | Weston-S-Mare | 34 | 14 | 5 | 15 | 53 | 60 | -7 | 47 |
| 10 | | Eastleigh | 34 | 13 | 7 | 14 | 48 | 48 | 0 | 46 |
| 11 | | Dorchester | 34 | 13 | 7 | 14 | 49 | 53 | -4 | 46 |
| 12 | | Boreham Wood | 34 | 12 | 9 | 13 | 45 | 49 | -4 | 45 |
| 13 | | Farnborough | 34 | 13 | 5 | 16 | 45 | 63 | -18 | 44 |
| 14 | | Salisbury City | 34 | 10 | 10 | 14 | 42 | 47 | -5 | 40 |
| 15 | | Truro City | 34 | 11 | 6 | 17 | 52 | 68 | -16 | 39 |
| 16 |  | Maidenhead United | 34 | 10 | 8 | 16 | 39 | 57 | -18 | 38 |
| 17 | | Eastbourne Borough | 33 | 9 | 9 | 15 | 46 | 54 | -8 | 36 |
| 18 | | Bromley | 34 | 8 | 10 | 16 | 45 | 60 | -15 | 34 |
| 19 | | Havant and Waterlooville | 33 | 8 | 9 | 16 | 55 | 65 | -10 | 33 |
| 20 | | Staines Town | 35 | 8 | 8 | 19 | 39 | 57 | -18 | 32 |
| 21 | | Hampton & Richmond | 32 | 6 | 11 | 15 | 44 | 58 | -14 | 29 |
| 22 | | Thurrock | 34 | 4 | 10 | 20 | 29 | 69 | -40 | 22 |
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