Two for the Price of One

These certainly are surreal times we are living in. A fortnight or so ago the Gandermonium faithful were trooping down to GGL for their staple diet of National League football. To be fair the professional programme had already been cancelled and the fixture with Hartlepool was being widely touted as being potentially the last game in London for some time. Fast forward a couple of weeks and that prediction has sadly proved true.

Italia '79 - Sutton United & the Anglo-Italian Cup (Pt 1)

For many years now, we've had to put up with regularly having the tales of our silly adventures 'Top Trumped' by some of the older heads amongst the U's support with the refrain "Yeah, but it wasn't Italy for the Anglo-Italian Cup was it?". The bastards. Naturally, since we started doing this tosh again, we've been trying almost as long to get them to put some of this down in writing. That way, if nothing else, we can get some hits off these lurid tales. Finally, thanks to Covid-19, it's happened.

So without further ado, we'll hand you over to your guide on this little journey. One Mr F. Frake Esq.....

The Last Game in London

There’s an old Chinese proverb that says “may you live in interesting times”.  Well, that all depends on how you define interesting doesn’t it? And if you find an endless carnival of death, crisis and chaos a turn-on then you must be having the absolute time of your fucking life right now. If, like me, you prefer a bit of peace and quiet, a nice cup of splosh, a custard slice and some old black and white episodes of On The Buses on the box then you have pretty much had a gutful of “interesting” as it goes.

Flowery Twats

We live in strange and troubled times ladies and gentlemen. Our nation's leaders are a set of bumbling fuckwits & liars, the country is being battered by a succession of increasingly oddly monikered storms, Dukey has abandoned his mission to save the planet and has instead taken to educating our youth, that Coronavirus bollocks is going to kill us all to death, fucking Love Island is STILL on the telly and, worst of all, we've not got anyone available for the Halifax away blog. What we need is a hero. A white knight on his firey steed, fresh from the fight to race to our rescue. Or at least to fuck off up to Yorkshire and do a blog for us if nowt else.

Coronation Virus

With the usual reprobates that frequent this blog to detail their adventures watching the mighty Sutton stuck back in that leafy hamlet known as the PROWS, I have offered to guest for the midweek trip to what the TV reports suggest is the only part of the Calder Valley not under water, i.e. The Shay, home of FC Halifax Town.

An Interrupting Phone Call

Finally, our second win of 2020 has arrived. And what better place to have it but at Hayes Lane, home of Cray Wanderers Bromley. And if you thought that recently was a so so run of form for us, then you only have to look over to these Kent boys to find some real bad form as Bromley were currently on one solitary point gained over the last seven matches. Form worse than Chorley, fact.

Welcome Back Desmond

Ok, it's been a while since we've seen a Desmond round these parts. Think it was back in mid-August when we welcomed one of those Northern teams who showed us how to exactly take a set-piece not once but twice in a row as we shipped in two simple goals to the powerhouses that are Chorley. Of course it was expected as Chorley were to rise up and up through the table. Or not.

Beddington Corner FC

I’m a sucker for old football clubs and grounds that are no longer with us and after the stunning response to the pieces I wrote up on Banstead Mental Hospital FC and the long-lost Mitcham Stadium it became clear that many others are as well and I had been casting around for another contender.

Livin' Devil-may-care

Ok, Let's face it shall we. Barring the thumping we gave woeful Woking on New Years Day, January was a pretty big come down for the Sutton Boys. Four games without scoring a goal, getting really embarrassed by Leatherhead in the Surrey Senior Cup and Eastmond getting his marching orders against Chesterfield for failing to connect a punch. So the question is, would February go the same way?

Come On Eileen

Aah, The Head. When I first started following Sutton, Leatherhead were real rivals in the old Rothmans Isthmian League and in that golden era for their football club without a shadow of a doubt one of the top non–league sides in the land, when there were certainly plenty of contenders kicking about. Of course, Sutton were no mugs in those days either with Ted Powell and Larry Pritchard running the show on and off the pitch and it is a measure of the attacking talent in the squad that we were able to release Chris Kelly, the putative Leatherhead Lip, and pack him off down the A24 where he would later assume national celebrity status.