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       (This article was first published in the Worthing FC 
        Programme in the 2002-2003 season) 
       A local special for a local game between local 
        teams for local people… 
      Come home, come home, come home… 
      
       Prounced “lose”. Be warned, the hills have 
        eyes. Our country cousins from the east call it the “Dripping Pan”, 
        and on the evidence of our last visit, they weren’t kidding, as 
        streams of effluent flow freely. Not a ground to visit the day after a 
        Gurkha vindaloo. Lewes: it’s like one big family. 
      You best move on, sir… don’t 
        go up on the moors. 
      
       What more is there to say about our stumpy-piered neighbours? 
        Don’t know where it is yet? Look for Pagham on a map and you’ll 
        find a small town near it. Alternatively, if coming by alien spacecraft, 
        simply scan the monitors for the mothership. 
      Say something nice: The bread pudding 
        is nice, apparently. A bit stodgy for my defined tastes, but what can 
        you do, eh? What can you do? 
      
       Horse ham? Sounds a bit French to me. That would be Eddie, 
        he plays in defence. Compulsory to own a landrover, green wellies and 
        a barbour jacket. If you’re called Tarquin or Chloe, all the better. 
        Some may say it’s merely a suburb of Crawley, personally I see it 
        more as a sleeper town for Dorking. 
      If it wasn’t for your wellies, where would 
        you be? You’d be in the hospital or infirmary 
      
       More Stumbly Town or Crashing Back to Reality Town at 
        the moment. Crawley’s legendary impatience and refusal to be happy 
        with their lot has led to the departure of Billy Smith. Rumour has it 
        that another Billy Boy is on his way from the Pan. 
      Roundabouts: Don’t you just love 
        them? West Sussex County Council certainly does, and after their cruel 
        and twisted experiments on the New Town they’ve moved down to sully 
        my peaceful seaside idyll (and the end of my road) with their evil roundabout 
        spawn. 
      The teams under the stairs: 
      
       I’ve heard talk of such places, beyond the mythical 
        Beddingham Level Crossing, but to be honest, the quality of life is so 
        much better here in leafy West Sussex by the sea that I’ve never 
        felt the need to explore the wild east. 
      
       Roll up, roll up, roll up to see the authentic working 
        Worthing FC museum at full steam down at Old Barn Way. Don’t spill 
        anyone’s pint in the clubhouse! 
      
       They do a lovely barbecue! Just don’t park your 
        bus on the main road or you’ll paralyse the main artery between 
        Hastings and Ashford. 
      Welcome to the jungle 
        The Flying Horseman 
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