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(This article was first published in the Worthing FC Programme in the 2002-2003 season)
You can tell by the way I walk my walk…
Bryco League Cup Extra: Tooting & Mitcham United
Not again… how many times do I have to come with something original for a ground that couln’t be bothered itself, eh? Look, it’s shiny, new and made of lego. The bar staff are surly and work for an outsourced catering company. But at least the terraces behind each goal are steep. Be warned, the bar is drab and is outside the ground… anything looking remotely bar-like inside the walls of Imperial Fields is definitely not for the likes of you, my friend.
Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner: That I charge you an extra 30 pence for a single cheese slice on your burger. Cup of tea, sir? Certainty, that will be three pounds of flesh…
Staines Town
As Wheatsheaf Lane is being redeveloped as a Stamford Bridge for the suburbs, this game will be played at the stand-by venue of many a Surrey club – Egham Town. Egham, Eggs and Ham, didn’t Dr Seuss write a book about that? He did, but he had a wocket in his pocket, and lets face it, you don’t.
Historically sponsored by that famed bastion of Staines nightlife, the Exchange Nite Club (home of “Barrys Big Nite Out”), this team in yellow and blue provided travelling Rebels with one of their finest moments last season, belting out “we’re going to win 4-3” after being three-down inside 20 minutes, going into the break at 3-3, and then watching (from afar) as a 20 yard bullet header from captain Mark Burt fly into the net for the own goal to end all own goals… is it any wonder that one of the pikachus couldn’t take it any more and the day ended in tragedy at Walton station?
Dr Seuss: I would not, I could not, in a box. I could not, I would not, with a fox. I will not eat them with a mouse. I will not eat them in a house. I will not eat them here or there. I will not eat them anywhere. I do not eat green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-am.
Ashford Town (Middlesex)
An identity crisis, in more ways than one… they’re not in Kent, but then, we’re not in Kansas either. This team were complicit in boosting our early-season ambitions to unrealistic levels. For one fleeting moment, lasting a mere 3 days, we were the daddies. P1 W1 D0 L0 F5 A0 Pts3. Just the job. Remember though, it’s a marathon, not a snickers.
This team play at a small ground renowned for it’s rustic charm (i.e. no facilties), but this is no Westfield, so don’t expect a barbecue and penguins at this one. This team are struggling in the league, and on the evidence of what we saw on day one it’s not hard to understand why. Sporting magnificent orange and white striped shirts, like peacocks with a Sunny D addiction, it’s too early to say what kit we’ll be in – my money’s on the red one.
Middlesex: Stop sniggering at the back there. Just like Middle Earth, this mythical place is not really there. Let’s face it, you know you’re West London, so you may as well just accept it. We have.
It only takes a minute, girl
The Flying Horseman
7th Feb 2004