It was another horribly early morning start for me. Our train wasn't until 8.24AM yet my alarm went off 2 hours before that so I didn't want to risk sleeping through the snooze button and thus got my arse out of bed. So I did the usual preparation routine of stick the jaigermeister and energy drinks in the freezer, sit on the internet doing fuck all, have a shower, get dressed, put my flags in my bad, get the beers out of the shed.... oh, hang on. My sister decided she'd drink the 7 or 8 bottles out there which I was planning on taking to football and thus meant I would have to pick up some tinnies from the garage - another unneccessary expense when I'm struggling to get through the month. There were some speckled hen and john smith cans out there, but neither of them are the sort of drinks you want to be having on a liquid breakfast.
Anyway, I walked up to the station and avoided the temptation of something from greggs, instead priortizing on grabbing some beers and fags from the garage. And then I walked to the Priory station to be greeted by Russell, Fish, Ryan Reid and Phil Smith, our spirirtual train leader, making his first train outing of 2012. The first thing me and Russell did was go for poos in our respective comfortable cubicles at the station. Amazingly I'd already had 2 before I'd even left my house as a result of the fantastic curry I'd had at the new India House restauraunt the evening before. For any Dovorians reading I suggest you try it out - one of the nicest curries I have ever had, quite amazing considering it is situated next door to Iceland.
Quite humourously me and Russ resurfaced out of our cubicles at the exact same time and thus exchanged details on our respective turds. But annoying we were being held up about buying train tickets because Martyn, Jared and Doddy had still not turned up when our train was only minutes away from arrival. The former two eventually turned up with minutes to spare but Doddy turned up bang on 8.24 and was only saved a journey on himself because of a four minute delay to the train.
It really fucks me off when people can't prepare themselves and get ready on time and I made my feelings clear on this. Its not like it was a ridicously early time to be up and about so Kieran is going to have to learn his lesson and grab some fucking organisation skills!!
What was more annoying was the lack of seating on our four carridge train. There was only one four-seater table available so me, Russell and Fish, commonly known as the three muskaqueers, sat in the first class section the entire journey and never got queeried by the train guard for it. In fact as part of my rail pass it covers first class priveledges so I have never had the problem.
Due to the seperation of our group this was a pretty low-key journey into Waterloo and the two hour odd journey dragged out a while. I think we were just having civilized conversations on football, life and all things bright and beautiful. The most memorable thing I can remember was waiting for the bog for five minutes before some reasonable looking woman resurfaced. Judging by the smell she left behind she'd clearly been for a dump, the cheeky git.
When I caught up with the others as we exited the train at Waterloo, it became apparent that their conversations had been far less civilized. They seemed keen to tell me about some video they had been watching of Amanda Holden getting smashed up the jackson from about 10 years ago, which is available to view on the internet. Then they got caught up on a debate on weather it was actually really her and the validity of the video. Well chaps, I'll have to have a little look for myself and be the judge of that.
Me and Martyn "No-morals/microphone head/doozer/speccy twat/seth from superbad/" Mcgarrigle had enough time to go for a quick smoke at Waterloo but our train was already perched inside the station so we got on it early to get some decent seats. We managed to get outselves this small section next to first class for ourselves which turned out to be a good thing, as we became noisy twats for this journey as the jaw-dropping excitement of Basingstoke away got the better of us.
Ryan Reid, who I have divulged on here before about him being a bit 'special', was making his first outing to a Dover game in months and his ADHD-like nature ensured he was as hyper as Jason Mcfarlane at a burger eating contest. He pulled out some inflatable hooker that he received as a Christmas present, then starting shouting at the train next to us that we overtaking with "BUS WANKERS", failing to realise they were actually on a train. As usual he'd prove to be an entertaining nuisance throughout the entire day.
We were all pretty lively on here though as the jaigerbombs began to get sunk down. It dissapointingly seemed to go a lot much quicker than last week as we polished 3/4's of the bottle before we had even arrived in Basingstoke.
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| Just your usual gaggle of non-league freaks, clad with our meat-paste sarnies. |
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| Josh Watkins in a rare shot of him not vomiting. |
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| Reidy's carer as well as his matchday mascot. |
There was a wide plethora of ales in here though which was a massive bonus for my taste buds. I kick-started with one of their local ales called White Rabbit, a crisp light golden number before going a bit main-stream afterwards with a Courage Best, both of which went down like a sack of shit. I'm really pleased to be getting back into the real ale scene. Russell loved the ones he tried while we even got Fish on the ale, which is really unlike him. We even tried to convince Doddy to man up and stop embarrassing us by drinking fosters top to no avail but he did promise he'd try and man up soon.
Using the term always makes me cringe but there was some tremendous 'banter' in, some of which I sadly can't repeat on here as it could potentially lead one of the lads into hot water but if you'd like to know then I'm sure you can ask me at the next game.
I don't think the barmaid was too impressed with some of the loud noise coming out of Reidy's trap-hole and asked us to keep the noise down a bit. When Martyn exited the pub to go to the shop over the road we all decided we'd hide in the toilets so he'd have thought we had left the pub but we eventually Ryan ruined that plan by wandering outside.
With two senior figures here in the form of Waterfield and Phil, we could ensure that everybody drank at a reasonable pace and less time was wasted on valuable drinking time. Even Russell managed to finish up in reasonable time as he was desperate to prove that the conceptions of him being a patheticly slow drinker were a false one.
We eventually headed towards the town in search for some more drinking caverns. Unfortunately this required walking through a packed shopping centre which was a pain in the arse. Made worse by four of our lads needing to go to the cash point, which meant we lost Phil and had to stand on our own two feet. Cue me ranting and moaning a bit more at the others for being unprepared and needing to sort their lives out etc.
Amidst the chaos though we eventually rocked up at some sports bar that we had gone to last season called Laarsens. It wasn't great in there, horribly modern and I was genuinely gutted that they had no ale on tap or in the fridges, and thus had to have a fosters at £3.30 a pop. The only upside to this place was live football being screened with the Bolton v QPR game on TV, but even that was something I could easily live without.
And that goal-that-wasn't-given in that game was easily the main talking point in there leading to discussions on goal-line technology.
Its a boring debate that has been done to death and one that is commonly discussed by the types that sit in a pub watching 'their team' in their replica shirts so I don't want to go to much into it, but I think linesman should be able to see something that is so obviously over the line such as Clint Hill's header, Lampard's 'goal' at the WC, Pedro Mendes at Old Trafford etc. Maybe QPR should concentrate on not spunking money on shite like Shaun Wright-Phillips who can't hit a cow's arse with a banjo than goal-line technology, rather than a single officiating error. It evened itself out later on anyway when Cisse equlised while offside.
Anyway, boring premiershite stuff out the way, onto the next pub; the weatherspoons, that would prove to be a very brief visit thanks to the drunkness of Jared.
I was suprised en arrival to see a couple of other Dover fans there in the form of Mark Jones and his-mate-that-I-Don't-know-the-name-of as they normally drive to away games but I think one of their MRS dropped them off in town.
Before purchasing a drink I went upstairs to have a piss where I found Jared stumbling around also looking for the pisser. He first went into the kitchen and then into the laydeez and by the time we finally saw the gentlemans he drunkenly exclaimed "that's not the mens". Errr, ok Jared. I didn't see him after that until I got downstairs and soon after he was being asked by one of the barmaids to leave the pub because he was absolutely sloshed.
To be fair, the service here was utterly dire anyway. By the time I had smoked a cigerette while everyone else had gone inside, gone for a piss and then queued up a few minutes myself to buy a drink, not a single one of our lads had got served in about that ten minute period. It wasn't even that busy at the bar. I know weatherspoons are typically slow but they really did take the piss and wouldn't even allow us to stay on the basis of Jared not drinking and being looked after so we said "fuck it, fuck you, might aswell spend our money in a proper pub where the custom is appreciated" and stormed out.
I had a go at Jared outside but in his defence he hadn't done anything wrong, other than looking really drunk and stumbling about a bit.
He looked quite tearful and had a sulking face like a slapped arse as we made our way to the Wheatsheaf pub up the road. We explained the weatherspoons situation to the landlady inside and she decided to give us the benefit of the doubt, Jared was treated like an adult and everyone was well behaved. According to the locals in their the weatherspoons is notorious for shite service.
We've been to this pub before and its not a bad little boozer; quite old school feel and decor to it but also has a beer garden pool, darts, quiz machine and live football on sky sports, so it was pretty well ticked on all boxes apart from it didn't have any real ales on tap, much to my dismay. They had run out of barrels on the two they normally have on, so I had to revert back to the weak piss lager in the form of Carling and Fosters.
There also seemed to be quite a few oddballs that frequented this place including some old bloke with long silver hair that looked like a washed up member of Led Zeppelin or Motorhead. Whenever I went out for a cigerette he would keep rambling on about some shit or other before pissing himself laughing, which I would sarcastically fake a laugh along with without him realising I was taking the piss. I'd also start pulling wanker signs at him whenever he turned his back, despite the fact nobody else was watching me to get a few cheap laughs out of. I just thought he was a wanker.
Not quite as big a wanker as the bald guy wearing an EDL shirt in there though. I kept making sarcastic joke comments at him which the thick cunt couldn't really clock onto so I eventually said "You might as well wear a shirt with the words 'I am a racist' emblazoned on it" but he just chuckled along. Quite lucky that I didn't get a smack round the chops for that quip but quite unlucky that none of the others were in presence to witness it.
Basingstoke's Camrose Stadium is another one of those shitters that is quite out of town, which is no use when you're on the piss so we had to order 3 taxis to the ground, which turned into a tussle of wrestling each other out the way to get into which ever one arrived first. We all eventually got outside the ground with about 15-20 minutes until kick-off though. They're one of those clubs that have their bar on the outside of the ground and while its a decent clubhouse for this level, I decided I couldn't be bothered with the hassle and would rather just drink one of the leftover cans I had in my bag and save the few quid. I'm struggling to get through our long run of games until pay day as it is at the moment!
I was really tempted to try and get in with my Basingstoke ticket from last season that was quite amusingly still in my wallet and in fairly decent condition. I bottled it though on the basis it would probably be a different colour this season and for some reason it had 'OAP' on it. The only 'OAP' I stand for is 'Obese and Peckish'.
And thus I plucked up the courage to go in for an under 16 which quite amazingly, I succeeded thanks to some crouching down as I entered the turnstile. I'm not even under 16 stone for fuck sake!
Here me and Russell went off to the toilet pubicle together which while sound extremely homo-erotic, the only thing homosexual was the fact we were guzzling down a can of Fosters like naughty school children. And after doing that, engaging in some conversation with all the other Dovorians who had made their way to the inbred part of Hampshire, the teams came out and it turned out we were attacking behind the goal that has a covered terrace, which is the end we normally attack in the second half.
I don't know how many of you have been to Basingstoke's ground but its a pretty poor place to go to and arguably ranks in the bottom 5 grounds in our league. Theres a decent main seated stand that has quite elevation and the terrace behind one goal has cover. Theres another covered terrace down one side of the pitch but the other end is uncovered with only a few steps. Most the ground is pretty flat and the amount of home fans is pretty sparse. The crowd for the game was only 438 and there was at least 100 of us, pretty poor for a club that is one of the better teams in this league if the league table doesn't lie.
Anyway, some absolutely glorious sunshine here which meant we had to watch most of the first half with our hands above our eyes to get the sunlight out of the way. But we needn't have bothered as it was very uneventful in terms of the football.
I think we probably just shaded the first half but chances were very scarce here. I don't recall anything clear cut but there were times we broke into their box but never really got a meaningful shot in. At times it seems we try to pass the ball into the net rather than just having a fucking pop when the situation arises. Admittedly I can't recall too much of the soccer on Saturday but I vaguely remember quite a few groans when Barry Cogan didn't shoot at one point, although that might have just been Barry being scapegoated again.
I think most of the first half we were too busy trying to wind up their steward, whom we've had with us many times before and he's certainly one of those bullied at school types that like to exert the limited amount of power they have. He did confiscate a can off of me which I can't have too many complaints about, but he did warn us all over our language and specificly requested we did not use the 'C' word, thus leading to chants of 'Carrot' and 'Cabbage'. But we did repeatedly start using the proper C-bomb randomly in every chant we sung from then onwards in an attempt to really test his patience but I think he decided it wasn't worth the hassle of trying to chuck us all out.
Immature you say? Well, there were no young children in our stand and if the word 'cunt' upsets you then you need to move out of the 1950's. I've always thought the concept of getting offended over a swear word is a bit needy really. Racist and derograty terms about the disabled I can understand, but cunttitwankbollocks, not so much.
And of course, if the needy arsewipe wasn't in our faces all the time then there would be a significantly less risk of aggravation. DEATH TO ALL STEWARDS.
The other person on the end of some serious stick was Ashley Bayes, the Basingstoke goalkeeper. Phil kept on barraging him about him being a Mark Stimson rent boy that would follow him around at every club but he just kept taking it in his stride and laughed it off. And to be fair to him, he's a cracking goalkeeper that has probably prevented us from scoring another 3 or 4 goals against them in our two fixtures this season. And I can't quite believe that he is 40 in April, according to wikipedia. He looks like he's no older mid to late 20's! One of the best in this division, IMO.
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| Is that Jesus Christ I can see in the background? |
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| The 'main attraction' of the ground. |
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| And some people try to romantize non-league football, when the reality is you play at shitholes that the locals understandably cannot be arsed to turn out to see. |
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| SIR YES, SIR! |
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| Kingy makes the bus shelter look less shite. |
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| Fish with undoubtedly the pose of the day. |
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| The Dover MASSES eagerly anticipate the second half. |
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| Mug in mugshot. |
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| Yep, not great, is it? |
Again, being on a cost cutting exercise I decided to dodge a half-time pint in their bar, instead supping another can in their toilets in my usual sophisticated manner. With three flags to set up its always a pain in the arse if I want to go for a pint at half time these days.
We had numb-nuts steward follow us round to the tinpot stand we congregated in. Well I say 'we', but most of the Dover fans spread around for the second half and our atmosphere faltered as a result, while the Basingrad supporters themselves sparked into life thanks to some horrendously ugly boy repeatedly smashing a massive drum into oblivion.
Second half we were poor throughout the majority of it. Well, what I remember of it anyway because to be honest I had turned round and said something to someone literally a few seconds before Basingstoke scored their opener only 5 minutes into the half and thus missed the goal. I do remember some old Basingstoke arsehole piping up at us immedietly after though and thus leading to a lot tension.
I didn't think we were going to get back into the game after that. We were back to get massive over-run once again in midfield and Basingstoke looked more likely to get another goal than we were to equalise. I think Ruiz made a few decent stop after a shaky performance on Tuesday night. But it seems out 4-2-4 formation only works when our attacking players are on song. But only Purcell and Bricknell really looked like they could make anything happen, Johnson had a quiet game and new loan signing Danny Green didn't particularly impress me. In fact his stupid fucking mullet was annoying the hell out of me.
We had numb-nuts steward follow us round to the tinpot stand we congregated in. Well I say 'we', but most of the Dover fans spread around for the second half and our atmosphere faltered as a result, while the Basingrad supporters themselves sparked into life thanks to some horrendously ugly boy repeatedly smashing a massive drum into oblivion.
Second half we were poor throughout the majority of it. Well, what I remember of it anyway because to be honest I had turned round and said something to someone literally a few seconds before Basingstoke scored their opener only 5 minutes into the half and thus missed the goal. I do remember some old Basingstoke arsehole piping up at us immedietly after though and thus leading to a lot tension.
I didn't think we were going to get back into the game after that. We were back to get massive over-run once again in midfield and Basingstoke looked more likely to get another goal than we were to equalise. I think Ruiz made a few decent stop after a shaky performance on Tuesday night. But it seems out 4-2-4 formation only works when our attacking players are on song. But only Purcell and Bricknell really looked like they could make anything happen, Johnson had a quiet game and new loan signing Danny Green didn't particularly impress me. In fact his stupid fucking mullet was annoying the hell out of me.
There wasn't a shortage of effort from our players though and the introduction of Donovan Simmonds in his first appearence since his twitter remarks renewed some optimism. I think it was his cross that led to Billy Bricknell heading us level about 10 minutes from time, thus continuing Billy's goalscoring streak and superb revival since his poor performance at Hythe. I 'celebrated' this goal by flicking a few wanker signs at the Basingmong fans that had been rubbing their lead in our faces, and got myself involved in a war of words with some of their fans near around us. Not one of my finest moments that's for sure. But I was planning even worse were we to nick a late winner.
Then I guess it was quite fortunate (?) that we didn't then, despite a frantic close end-to-end finale to the match in which either side couldn't find a winner to conclude the match. We all anticipated the 86th minute after our last few games in which we have found winners in but a draw was probably a fair result in the end. There were some good performances from the same old usual suspects like Purcell,Bricknell, Wynter, Simpemba and Ruiz but our lack of midfield and protection for our generally solid back four mean that we probably won't make the play-offs. We quite simply do not score enough goals, especially for such an attacking formation we employ. 47 goals in 31 games is quite poor for a side in the top 6 and even worse when you consider that 8 of them goals came in our first two games against Dorchester and Thurrock.
But the play-off dream remains alive thankfully and gives us a good reason to keep turning up to games, even though deep down I don't think we will make them and its all about finishing strongly and building on for a title challenge next season. So when we rolled into their bar for some much needed refreshments, we were delighted to receive full confirmation that Chelmsford had continued their recent poor form by losing at home to Welling. As I kept stating after the game, we could have beaten Basingstoke and Chelmsford could have won aswell, which would have meant we would have gained no ground on them, but with us drawing and them losing we have gained a vital point. Although a win would have had us in absolute raptures, its not disastrous to get a draw at Basingstoke who will finish in the top half.
The end of the match ended with another war of words with some Basingstoke fans thanks to Martyn no morals Mcgarrigle, whom upset their right-back by making constant references to his massive chin. He told Martyn to "come and say that in the bar" which sadly never happened, he must of been running scared of our much maligned four-eyed geek.
And I could finally have my long awaited pint of real ale in their bar! Doom bar it was and it flowed down a treat in the duration we spent in there before we got our taxis back to the station. I can't recall anything really noteworthy here other than Phil having an argument with their twatty steward, after he overheard Phil telling a Basingstoke fan that he thought their steward is a massive knob.
Fish was dissapointed that he had to leave before he received his inflatable WKD bottle that he had purchased in the pub earlier in the day. He'd given it to someone to get all the players to sign it.
I spent the taxi back to the station just stirring things up between Russell and Martyn. Russell genuinely hates him with an absolute passion and has even gone as far as blocking him on facebook and twitter but they have to bare each others company on away games. Its nothing personal, Russell just doesn't like his no-morals, bullshitting and thick-as-shit nature but Martyn just laughs it off. I was telling Russell to see beyond his hatred and embrace him, learn to love him but he was having none of it.
Luckily just over the road from Amazingstoke station is a Londis and we piled in there for some beverage. So I grabbed another four tinnies, a few energy drinks and a warm steak & kidney pie, my first bit of grubbage of the day. And it was pretty darn good for what is a tinpot mini-supermarket. Everyone else seemed to pick up Lech and some chocolate digestives, which I have to admit I ended up scoffing quite a lot of.
Our train journey back to Waterloo descended into some absolute carnage and some loveable idiotic behaviour as were all totally and utterly smashed at this point. When we got onto the train there were no real areas of free seats so we sat in the between inbetween the carriadges, where we would be out of harms way of the general public, and there were a few seats in this area.
We didn't cause any vandalism or commit any serious crimes thankfully, but we were a fucking loud nuisance, repeatedly singing Dover songs at the top of our voices and continuing to get wrecked. Unfortunately Ryan Reid was being a pain in the arse and kept on opening the door to the rest of the carridge which began fucking a lot of a people of. In particularly, one woman who was clearly on the blob and came over to us and essentially told us to shut the fuck up, and then booted my carrier back containing my alcoholic drinks. Thus we began to sing some songs at her like "you've got a ladder in your tights" (trust Phil to notice that) and "P M T, P M T, P M T" "On the blob, on the blob, on the blog".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_39CdU8sk2Y&feature=youtu.be
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| Reidy and his carer. |
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| I eventually got the two enemies to settle their differences aside for a snap. |
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| Jared so sloshed that he turned to lambrini! |
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| The irrattating yet loveable Reidy. |
I think it was a massive relief to the passengers around that had to endure our rowdy antics when we pulled up into Waterloo station but a few of us did apologize to a few of the people before we got off, so I think we're all ok on that point.
We had a fairly decent connection time here of 20 minutes so there wasn't enough time to pop in the hole in the wall, but there was enough time to share a couple of snouts with Martyn outside the station. Unfortunately some random bloke began to make conversation here and starting jibbering loads of bullshit, claiming that he's a West Ham season ticket holder yet when we asked him if he was at their game at Upton Park he hadn't gone, neither did he know what their score was. Then he began bullshitting about how he owns his own buisness and how minted he was, even though he was dressed worse than me and Martyn, both of us of whom don't have a fashion sense between us and were completely drenched in beer and sweat at this point. You do meet some right oddballs on these journeys, as I imagine anyone who encounters thinks the same.
We all eventually made our way onto the Waterloo East platform back to Dover but not without Ryan Reid and Phil turning up late, the former apparently getting held up an RPO or alledgedly trying to blag a free mcdonalds without paying. LOL!!!
This journey back into God's own town was pretty lively too before some of the lightweights in our party kept nodding off. We finally got the chance to polish off our jaigermeister after not having the space to do so on the previous train and I luckily had the majority of it thanks to Jared not be able to consume anymore. Jared was too busy sulking because apparently he got started on by someone when he got onto the train, which I somehow managed to miss. Thus I kept singing "It's never your fault, it's never your fault, you're always the victim, it's never your fault" at him, a song which I shamefully nicked off Manure fans, aimed at the Red side of Liverpool. You know, that football club whos supporters murdered 39 Italians in Heysel and have never faced any repurcussions for it, that one. The one that supports proven racists because an independent panel finding said player guilty is not valid enough evidence. That one.
This journey was amusing for various reasons. One was a very out-of-it Jared speaking and trying civilised conversation with some middle-class middle-aged women next to us but Jared, bless him, is not the most articulate of people even when he's stone cold sober.
Then there was Martyn attempting to chat up some French women on the train, despite the fact he has a face that resembles a bag of smashed crabs and a personality about as enviable as Ian Huntley. But fair play to the lad for trying anyway.
Then there was me randomly starting singing that song "get down on it" by the cool and the gang, but instead replacing the song lyrics with 'suck my helmet'. Then out of nowhere, two indie looking guys near us pulled out some speakers and their ipod and began blasting out that song to the train carridge! It was totally bizarre and random but let to a few loud choruses of "suck my helmet" belting around the train.
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| Taking advantage of a depleted Russell. |
But myself, I was too busy beating my younger brother at scrabble, beating him by a massive 100 point margin by scoring 355 overall, because that's how rock and roll I am. I guess it wouldn't be a good time to mention that I cheated on a made up word in this game, something I totally wouldn't condone while sober.
And that was a fantastic away day. If we had returned with a win it would have made it the best one of the season but for off the field merits, it was great.
And another away day returns tomorrow night, this time in South West London at Hampton & Richmond, in what is a great chance to use one of our games in hand to bridge the gap on Chelmo. But Hampton are battling relegation and beat Truro 4-3 on Saturday, so it will be a tough game.
I don't normally get trains to midweek away games but I'm meeting my uncle in Waterloo tomorrow, so it does have a chance to get a bit Lionel Messi. We'll see how it goes. Hopefully I'll have something half-interesting to write for a change, unlike this repetitive shite I'm sure you're bored of reading by now.
So ladies and gentleman, stay tuned for my next update late in the week, hopefully reporting a Dover win. COYW!!
| Saturday 10 Mar 2012 | |||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Basingstoke | 1 | - | 1 | Dover | |
 McAuley (59) |
Bricknell (80) |
 438 |
|||
| Boreham Wood | 2 | - | 2 | Dorchester | |
Riza (38) Noto (43) |
Walker (23) Nichols (78) |
201 |
|||
| Bromley | 0 | - | 0 | Eastleigh | |
| 432 |
|||||
| Chelmsford | 1 | - | 2 | Welling | |
| Rainford (14) |
Day (05) Cumbers (63) |
1,003 |
|||
| Dartford | 3 | - | 0 | Farnborough | |
| Erskine (19) Erskine (53) Garrod (89) |
1,374 |
||||
| Eastbourne Borough | 0 | - | 0 | Sutton Utd | |
| Hampton & Richmond | 4 | - | 3 | Truro City | |
Moone (15) Moone (53) Inman (56) Moone (65) Jones (91) |
Watkins (28) Watkins (61) Afful (62) |
369 |
|||
| Havant and W | 3 | - | 4 | Woking | |
| Palmer (03) Ramsey (50) Palmer (78) |
Sole (24) Cowan-Hall (38) Cowan-Hall (46) Ademola (54) |
1,009 |
|||
| Salisbury | 1 | - | 0 | Staines Town | |
| Fitchett (38) |
563 |
||||
| Tonbridge Angels | 1 | - | 0 | Maidenhead Utd | |
| Schulz (54) |
591 |
||||
| Weston-S-Mare | 2 | - | 2 | Thurrock | |
| Kabba (04) Price (82) |
Boylan (79) Cutler (91) |
208 | |||
| Pos | Team | P | W | D | L | F | A | GD | Pts | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 |  |
Woking | 32 | 22 | 6 | 4 | 65 | 30 | 35 | 72 |
| 2 |  |
Dartford | 31 | 20 | 6 | 5 | 70 | 31 | 39 | 66 |
| 3 | |
Welling United | 33 | 20 | 6 | 7 | 67 | 43 | 24 | 66 |
| 4 | |
Sutton United | 32 | 17 | 10 | 5 | 57 | 39 | 18 | 61 |
| 5 | |
Chelmsford | 33 | 16 | 10 | 7 | 57 | 32 | 25 | 58 |
| 6 | |
Dover | 31 | 13 | 12 | 6 | 48 | 31 | 17 | 51 |
| 7 | |
Basingstoke Town | 32 | 12 | 10 | 10 | 49 | 42 | 7 | 46 |
| 8 | |
Dorchester | 32 | 13 | 7 | 12 | 48 | 47 | 1 | 46 |
| 9 | |
Eastleigh | 33 | 13 | 7 | 13 | 46 | 45 | 1 | 46 |
| 10 | |
Tonbridge Angels | 32 | 12 | 8 | 12 | 54 | 52 | 2 | 44 |
| 11 | |
Weston-S-Mare | 33 | 13 | 5 | 15 | 52 | 60 | -8 | 44 |
| 12 | |
Farnborough | 33 | 13 | 5 | 15 | 45 | 62 | -17 | 44 |
| 13 | |
Boreham Wood | 31 | 11 | 8 | 12 | 41 | 46 | -5 | 41 |
| 14 | |
Salisbury City | 32 | 10 | 9 | 13 | 41 | 44 | -3 | 39 |
| 15 | |
Truro City | 32 | 10 | 6 | 16 | 50 | 64 | -14 | 36 |
| 16 |  |
Maidenhead United | 32 | 10 | 6 | 16 | 38 | 56 | -18 | 36 |
| 17 | |
Bromley | 33 | 8 | 10 | 15 | 45 | 59 | -14 | 34 |
| 18 | |
Havant and Waterlooville | 32 | 8 | 9 | 15 | 54 | 62 | -8 | 33 |
| 19 | |
Eastbourne Borough | 31 | 8 | 8 | 15 | 43 | 52 | -9 | 32 |
| 20 | |
Staines Town | 33 | 8 | 7 | 18 | 37 | 54 | -17 | 31 |
| 21 | |
Hampton & Richmond | 30 | 6 | 9 | 15 | 42 | 56 | -14 | 27 |
| 22 | |
Thurrock | 33 | 3 | 10 | 20 | 27 | 69 | -42 | 19 |
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