Where's the Pie?

So that's it once again for another season of football for our dear old Sutton United. This has been another one of those campaigns where we've had some great highs and yet again, some shit lows that come with our adventures. And of course, it ends on a limp whimper. But now it's time to say goodbye and fuck off to 2018/19 with one more blog.

Snide Walnut Whip

Can we be honest with each other? We’ve knocked around together for a while and you should have got the measure of me by now and if you haven’t, I can’t really help you. Because here’s the thing – playing a team that is already relegated when you have nothing much to pitch for yourselves is basically the footballing equivalent of necrophilia.

Eighteen Hours or More

With the season burning down rapidly to the dog end of the Summer, we don't mind admitting a few of us are looking froward to the break. This season has been testing for many reasons, mostly financial and alcoholic in our case admittedly, but still it's been a tough 9 months for all concerned, not least our squad which is showing attrition levels somewhere on a par with Blackadder Goes Forth's 'Twenty Minuters'.

Who Throws a Shoe?

In Arab culture, showing the sole of your shoe has long been seen as an insulting gesture. So hitting someone with a shoe is naturally seen as even worse an insult. Arabs consider the sole of the shoe unclean because it is in contact the ground and associated with the foot, the lowest part of your body. So clumping someone with your trainer shows that the recipient is considered to be even lower than that. Which is why when Saddam Hussein’s statue was toppled in the centre of Baghdad in 2003, the locals piled in, footwear in hand.

Rumble Our Blanks

Oh Sutton United. You most definitely know how to put the cat amongst the pigeons don't ya? Just when we you think that the team have already sacked off the rest of the season, up pops up Craig Eastmond with a 95th minute headed winner at the back post to once again give ignite false dreams of the ye olde fabled lands of the top 7.

A Lil' Chip Slip

There's only six games of what is turning into a bastard slog of a season to go and the play-offs might be only four points away but they could be twenty points for all it matters. The way the results have been coming in recently, we'd be going down if we hadn't already acquired enough points. Ever want to depress yourself, then just have a butchers at our current form. Very uninspiring.