Dirt on the Bishop's Finger

Ah, fourth round qualifying day, the time where you believe you're only ninety minutes away from a plumper of a first round tie. Alas, once again we won't be taking part in this year's festivities as we slumped out in the round previously. Still its been many years that we've put a Cup & Trophy run together in the same season so there is still time to "do the bizzo",as the northern tribes like to say, in the latter.

I Was There When Bignall Scored

Jack and Jill went up the Hill, To have some hanky-panky, silly Jill forgot her pill, And now there's little Frankie. I'm here all week folks!

A man once said "a week is a long time in football", personally I think that a week is the same time in any walk of life but this week has thrown up a few issues. First we crashed out of the FA Cup, even though it wasn't a shock to those that follow the team. Secondly we've seen some movements on and off the field. And thirdly and most importantly, I managed to leave my latest top up of two hundred fags at the club.

Sod all at the end of the Rainbow

We've had a few bad days in the FA Cup over the years. Yeading away in the mid-80's when arguably one of the best Sutton sides ever self destructed and lost 4-1 to a Spartan League side. Then in more recent memory, there's the defeat to Alton Towers Town at GGL being amongst the worst. But those losses had one thing in common, both good sides arguably having a really bad day at the office. 

The same can't be said of yesterday's debacle against Burgess Hill. You could spot this one coming from a mile off.

Al Capone's Fags

Another birthday recently came and went taking me just a few years away from the day when I am able to negotiate concessionary entrance with MarkN , the desert-booted guardian of turnstile A and custodian of the guitars when I have a gig straight after a home fixture.  In fact I still have the unrequited Senior Citizens entrance ticket that was offered voluntarily at Eastbourne last season pinned to my office wall to remind me that I will soon be dead.

Ceausescu Wasn't There

Finally, the magic that is the second most important cup (after the Surrey Senior!) to us has started for the season that will forever be known as 2014/15.

I do love the cup competitions because you get a chance to not worry about the ups & downs of the league for a change and sometimes you get to go to those occasional classic ties that you can regale your grandchildren with tales of.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

A woman sends her clothing to the dry cleaners. When it comes back, there are still stains in her panties. The next week she encloses a note to the cleaner: 'Use more soap on panties'. This goes on for several weeks, with the woman sending the same note to the dry cleaners. Finally the cleaner responds with a note: 'Use more paper on arse.'

Boom! Boom!

From Lithuania with Love (I sold my soul) - Drinking Abroad

Having witnessed history with Gibraltar's first ever competitive match, the gang now find themselves in the car park of the Estadio Algarve. It's 40km to Albufeira, they've got almost a full tank of gas, several packs of cigarettes, it's dark and some of them are wearing sunglasses.

Hit it Juan.

What Did Marcus Say?

A tourist is in Sutton one Saturday and he decides he would very much like to go to a football match, so he asks a man in the street if there are any local matches being played that afternoon. "Well," replies the man, "The Sutton United ground is very close but they're playing away today. If you feel you must really see a match, the Carshalton ground is not far away. You go straight down this road and you'll see two queues, a big queue and a small queue. You should go to the small queue because the big one is for the fish and chip shop."

It's the Minnows from the Rock! - Football Abroad

Shut up shut up SHUT UP!

I don't have the best relationship with my alarm clock as it is to be honest, but when the little cuboid bastard is waking me up at 5am on a Sunday morning with his shrill electronic banshee howl, my dislike for him reaches even greater hammer attack inducing levels. Ok, I accept that ultimately I set the time he goes off at, but bollocks. This is Gandermonium, so sense and rationality have absolutely no place here.

The Wrong Bookend

With a puff of smoke, the wheels of our plane land at Gatwick. The time is half past two, twenty minutes later than expected. For the past two days we've away doing what the Gandermonium Firm does best. But we won't be discussing any of that little trip here, we'll be leaving that little ditty for another time (soon!). Lets just say that over the course of two days we were considerably hung over and found ourselves considerably poorer at the end of it.