A Brief Abdication

August has been a busy old month. 7 games to squeeze in and with a few in the treatment room when the season kicked off it looked like we'd be having a tough time of it. How wrong we were. The lads available dug in, grafted their bollocks off, reattached them, then grafted them off once more and instead we go to Bromley on the Bank Holiday Monday with a scarcely believable 12 points from 15 and as many away wins as last season already.

Getting Goosed by the Maid

Well that lasted long didn't it? Our stay at the summit of non-league football is already over, but as it's the Bank Holiday Weekend we might be actually be top again by the time you read this on Monday. so this will probably make no sense at all.

The Table Doesn't Lie

Gordon Bartlett Bennett, we've only gone and bloody done it haven't we? Top of the league, best of the best, the crème de la crème, the tutti frutti, the Gino Ginelli. And before we get too carried away with foreign sounding words, let's just stop and relax for moment. So take a pew, stick a Pacer in your gob, open up a bottle of Blue Nun (or a Party Seven) and read on...

Knock Three (dozen!) Times...

Strange how things pan out innit? Last season we met Macclesfield at much the same point in the season. We'd had an ok start and a decent 2-0 win left us sat in the positively vertigo inducing 3rd place. Optimism was high! Then we went to Chester and had our pants royally pulled down in a defeat so rude, it really should have got all their lot on some sort of register. So, following this midweek clash with Macc? Chester away. Oh. Best hope we draw tonight then...

Lucy in the Sky with Dundo

Last season after the Southport game, we spent a very agreeable hour back in Liverpool having a pint before heading home. With the sights and sounds witnessed that evening convincing us that the land of the Scouse was well worth investigating further. But then we went and got all FA Cuppy meaning the Saturday up in Tranmere got binned and ended up as a midweeker instead.

Big Mountain

Ah yes, Eastleigh. The little club outside Southampton that are not only former Hampshire Midweek Floodlit Cup winners but a bloody place that we have never won under Our Lord Dos. You would have to go back to a Ross Montague double nearly ten years ago for the last (and only!) time we got 3 points here. And that was in our "shit year". Although saying that, we had a better away record that season than last year mind you.

The Super Tennent's - Football Abroad

Picture this (if you can), there I was, inside a Kentucky Beef restaurant, Joe Pesci is standing in the corner singing his 1998 non-hit "Wiseguys", Alec Stewart is regaling to me of the time he scored a century, in his century and on the Queen Mother's century. And I'm not too sure if it was Jason Lee or Regi Blinker that was doing a rather good mime impression. This goes on for a while when all of a sudden I hear a loud rumble and then a bright white light fills the air...

Non-League Stinks of Piss...

Orient. Now then, here's a thing. One of the worst Saturday afternoons of my life was spent on a trip out to the old Brisbane Road sometime around 1980 to see them play Brentford.

"What the fuck were you doing heading all the way to Leyton to watch some poxy lower-league fixture with Brentford for?", I hear you exclaim incredulously. And the truthful answer in that is I have not got a fucking clue.

A Highland Fling - Football Abroad

As you may know, we occasionally like to take ourselves out of our footballing comfort zone and parachute ourselves into more exotic surroundings in which to witness the beautiful game. We usually prefer somewhere where we don't speak the lingo, the beer is cheap, the food is strange and the money looks like we printed it at home. So, of course, this time round, we're off up to Scotland!

No, you fuck off.

Uncle Keith

We all remember the first ever football match we attended including who it was to see, who was the opposition, the date and who you went with – we’ve all been there.  Today I decided it was my nine month old niece, Emily’s first game to be at Sutton United.  My own personal first game was with my Dad, Uncle Kevin and cousin George. Chelsea vs Sheffield Wednesday on 28 December 1996 ending in a 2-2 draw.