Crawley Town 0 Havant & Waterlooville 3

25oct08
FA Cup 4th Qualifying Round
Broadfield Stadium, Crawley
att. 1,253

Like with the Emperor, insistent that he was in fact wearing a spiffing new tailored get-up and definitely not sending out the imperial wang for a public appearance, there was no dressing this one up. With one round to go ‘til the propers; ‘til Leeds United, ‘til Leicester City, ‘til err… the winners of Aylesbury vs. Sutton, that last thing you want blocking your progress is the highest ranking team available in the pot.

That is, however, exactly who we got. At the time of the draw, Crawley were sitting atop the Conference Premier, under the stewardship of Steve Evans, a Glaswegian Captain Caveman with a vivacious purple head who, the last time we played one of his sides away (in that case Boston United), ran onto the field to attack one of our players. Admittedly this was in response to a poor tackle, but indicative of the fact that both before and since he’s been sent from more dug-outs than a Yorkshire terrier, circa 1939-45, regularly stinking out his street’s Anderson shelters with his cabbage farts.

All in all, a likeable chap then. This is entirely the point. There was nothing glamorous about it. Sure, we were playing a side from a league above, but we spent several seasons in the Southern League with them prior to their promotion and thus we can’t view them with any real awe – its just them Creepies from up the road innit? For those same reasons, it’s not like there would be any novelty in visiting their ground.

For my part, I tried to throw some ragged, third-generation family tinsel around it by saying, well, I might have been there before but, hey, it’s been a while at least. However, considering my four previous visits had cultivated three comprehensive defeats and just a single win, even a half-decade gap felt far too short. Even that solitary victory was during my first visit, nine years ago. Still, it was a cracking 3-2 win. I don’t have many of our goals imprinted on my memory, but Dave Wakefield’s opener that day is still there a decade on, and not just because he looked a bit like Roger the Alien from American Dad. Nostalgia in mind, try as I might to gee myself up with talk of, well, we’ve felled bigger fellas than these, the worst-draw-possible thing was pulling me back like a shirt sleeve caught on a kitchen door-handle.

That, combined with the week we’d just had, meant I approached a Hawk cup tie with none of my usual giddiness. The previous Tuesday we had been given such a working over by AFC Wimbledon we might as well have been shackled to a dungeon wall whilst they went about it. Doubly depressing for me as I was suffering a week of email abuse from my Dons-supporting chum in Canada. It got to the point where I sent so many playthings flying out of my pram, if you’d picked them up you could have opened a branch of Hamleys. On three floors. And with a mobile toy library as a sideline.

As such playing the team top of the league above only pointed to us getting a severe pub car-park kicking whilst we were down. Nonetheless, the general belief still seemed to be there, as did our love of the FA Cup despite unusually low expectations, as the Hawks assembled in good number and voice. Perhaps 90 minutes of racket is the answer, both on and off the pitch, for as much as the Hawks have been cautious and insipid for the vast majority of this season, they were everything but when faced with their biggest challenge as a newly formed side, going gung-ho from the get-go and, seemingly, ignoring their instincts. Which, at this point, is a good thing.

The formation was tinkered with, playing as a Christmas tree with Luke Nightingale as its (fallen?) angel, a show of faith by the manager despite a paucity of goals from the former Portsmouth striker. Whilst Luke may not have scored here, the tactics were otherwise giving us the shape to build, rather than lump, and see if the Crawley defence liked it coming quickly in their face, as it were. This, combined with a solid performance at the back, soaking up the home side’s early pressure, meant it was the finest ‘team’ performance this new bunch has thus far mustered. It would be remiss not to mention the fact that Crawley had Thomas Pinault (which I assume, given his retaliatory petulance, is pronounced ‘Peanut’) sent off, and had made all three substitutions before the start of the second half, but I believe this merely allowed the scoreline a little flattery, rather than actually changing it.

By this point we were already one nil to the good, Crawley old boy Ian Simpemba rising like a silo to place a header into the far corner [see above], and trigger panda. fackin’. monium behind the goal. After Peanut’s tunnelling, we ran the show, the team rewarding us with that very rare thing this season, a goal from a striker, Craig Watkins planting the ball home from Matt Gray’s cross, and another goal from Simpemba (who-oh-oh-oh), although being segregated and the goal coming at the other end, we believed it to be Gary Elphick supplying the flying bonce, and thus sang the wrong name.

Still, what the hell, both our central defenders were immense and worthy of choral comment. Frankly, we were well worth our win and, from all the gloom, a glimmer of light appears. The Cup Propers once again beckon us, hopefully allowing a big shot of confidence to be injected straight into our hearts.

I’ve made much of the fact that our FA Cup reserves should have runneth dry, that our ration book should really be empty. Well, it is, but we’ve nicked someone else’s book. Eastleigh’s I imagine, half-inched out of their changing room whilst we were distracting them by scoring two goals in injury time to beat them 3-2 at their place in the Setanta Shield a few weeks ago.

Some may have been thinking I’d been graciously avoiding mentioning that game, but frankly I was just ticked off that I missed it. After all the caper with Tom Jordan’s tapping up and protracted transfer, and their nicking of loads of our staff (however much they arguably did us a favour in the long run), beating our local rivals despite going into the final minute a goal down, the winning goal coming from a 96th minute penalty kick won thanks to a push by, oh yes, Tom Jordan, was sweet indeed.

Our players showed their stomach for battle that night, as they did here at Crawley, and we’d love to see more of it, particularly in our first round proper tie at home to League Two high-fliers Brentford. For now though, after a difficult week where the manager had his tenure aggressively questioned in some quarters, he and the players have answered their critics. The most impressive thing being that it was done with such commitment, such authority and such élan.

Road to Wembley
F: Everton 1 Chelsea 2 (att. 89,931)
SF: Manchester United 0 Everton 0 [2-4 pens] (att. 88,141)
6R: Everton 2 Middlesbrough 1 (att. 37,856)
5Rr: Middlesbrough 2 West Ham United 0 (att. 15,602)
5R: West Ham United 1 Middlesbrough 1 (att. 33,658)
4R: Wolverhampton Wanderers 1 Middlesbrough 2 (att. 18,013)
3R: Middlesbrough 2 Barrow 1 (att. 25,132)
2R: Barrow 2 Brentford 1 (att. 3,532)
1R: Havant & Waterlooville 1 Brentford 3 (att. 1,631)
4QR: Crawley Town 0 Havant & Waterlooville 3
3QR: Havant & Waterlooville 2 Godalming Town 1 (att. 462) [BM87]
2QRr: Shortwood United 0 Havant & Waterlooville 1 (att. 310) [dubSteps]
2QR: Havant & Waterlooville 2 Shortwood United 2 (att. 422)

Links
Crawley Town website
Havant & Waterlooville website
ITV.com match highlights

AFC Wimbledon 3 Havant & Waterlooville 0

21oct08
Conference South
Kingsmeadow, Norbiton
att. 2,711

Perhaps the games that have been chosen as worthy of document on here have given a false impression, or maybe it’s the tinting on my spectacles, my hope that things would eventually turn out alright. After our flaccid home defeat to Worcester last Saturday, our fourth league capitulation at West Leigh Park this season, my rose-tinteds had not just slipped off, but been crushed beneath the soles of my shoes, my feet crashing against the terrace in frustration at a performance so wan and empty you’d think it was addicted to heroin.

The most worrying thing was the distinct lack of hubbub, but that can’t be blamed on apathy on our part. Supporters supporting can lift a side, but then again a set of players displaying a sapped morale can transmit to those onlooking. Certainly, the lack of hullabaloo is communicating out from the team, and therein lies a danger; a real risk of this season being an opportunity missed, on several levels.

I could certainly live with missing out on promotion, but not in such a manner that suggests a lack of inclination. To adopt a theme m’Hawk chum Chris has put out there recently, we created a wave of increased interest last season, and our regular attendances have been boosted, but that only sustains for so long if you’re losing in front of the main body of your support every other week. The knock on effect of a football team being in decline will be that the club as a whole suffers, financially and in terms of self-esteem. Those who rode that tall wave last year may well tuck their surfboards under their arms and padlock their beach-huts, understandably lacking in inclination to mix it in dangerous and bitter waters over the winter.

Try as we might to summon up some belief, there have been too many lacklustre performances, with only one spirited showing per month thus far, to keep telling ourselves ‘it’ll click soon’. Two months in, that just doesn’t pass muster. Still, we can hardly be surprised at this trough. We said many times during last season’s glory tour, that this journey rewarded the regulars for turning up in all those hard times, those of us who come for both the thick and the thin. Clearly Football God heard this and Football God is now saying “So, you like a bit of thin? Here, have some thin.”

Following Worcester, questions were asked in the House, that house being our web forum and for the first time, at least with such vehemence, Shaun Gale’s tenure as manager was called into question, some even suggesting names, or rather a name, that might fit the managerial bill. Ex-Lewes manager Steve King is currently out of work, despite leading the Rooks to the Conference South title last season, and is watching a lot of football in the interim, stalking around several of our games like a pro-actively job-seeking Angel of Death.

All in all, not exactly an ideal atmosphere for Galey to take a team to AFC Wimbledon, a team making an instant impression in their first season at Conference South level. A good turnout of Hawk fans clustered in the corner, and got the singing in but sadly it was never going to be enough. Quite simply, despite putting up honest resistance in the first half, AFC were an excellent side that pounced on our indecision, scoring three goals after the break and but for Kevin Scriven’s return to form in goal, would have had a few more in the tin.

So we traipse from a drama towards a crisis like a banker in search of a sill but yet, despite our disappointment, these are the moments when we as fans have to re-affirm our raison d’être. We are supporters, so let’s support. As has been said, it’s very easy to turn up and sing when we’re winning at Notts County in the Cup and most of our home games in the league, a bit harder when the going gets tough. Despite the fact there are many who aren’t performing, and some whose continued selection (and/or positioning) is quite baffling, lambasting players whilst they are on the pitch can only be self-defeating.

Our expectations have been raised, certainly, but I can’t see how sacking managers at the first sign of trouble can be of benefit, particularly a manager who showed great loyalty in not doing one with Ian Baird to Eastleigh when he was asked. Perhaps it’s romanticised as a notion, but I place great value in honour, and it is a much neglected concept in football, as in life, and I feel it would be remiss of us to not give Galey a sensible amount of time to turn things around, particularly as I think we all may have been guilty of over-confidence based on our sketchy understanding of the club’s finances. This leeway can’t last forever of course, we won’t settle for relegation as long as honour is satisfied, but it is a very short memory that forgets the achievements of the current management team in its relatively brief time at the helm.

So, we go to Crawley in the FA Cup this coming weekend, and hopefully that will be not to sulk, but to serenade. Come on you Hawks.

Links
AFC Wimbledon website
Havant & Waterlooville website

Leyton Orient 2 Scunthorpe United 2

04oct08
League One
Brisbane Road (Matchroom Stadium), Leyton
att. 4,244

I’ve been in London for two years now, and it recently came to my attention that I’ve yet to develop a soft-spot for a local side. I suppose, though, that these things have to happen organically. Like setting up a micro-brewery in your stair cupboard, you can’t rush it, you have to let the elements ferment and settle in their own time, otherwise you find yourself idly following a football club that tastes like watery vinegar. On this evidence, you will also find yourself tangling your metaphors like a headphone lead hurriedly pushed to the bottom of a congested man-bag.

Its not like I need another team in my life, all sorts of outfits having ‘vaguely interested in their results’ status due to me having lived close by briefly or by them being supported by the ghosts in the back-story; ex-colleagues, ex-housemates and this Scottish bloke I once knew who used to wear a really nice hat.

In this case, my visiting chum had chosen the game on the basis of having taken a liking to some of the Orient fans that had phoned into 6.06, displaying a infinitesimal soft spot of his own there apropos of very little which, as I’ve stated, is kind of how this game works. So, given that I was mainly at Brisbane Road for ‘showing hospitality’ reasons, I wasn’t expecting anything other than dyed-in-the-wool neutrality. However, when you’re stood up and shouting repeatedly “Ref, he’s gotta go” after the away side’s keeper has used his hand as jazzy trip-wire to professionally fell a striker in the box, you start to realise you might be a little more into this thing than you thought. This was particularly weird given the first half display that Orient had put on. If anything was going to scare me off instantly, it would have been that.

It turns out that in my capacity as a public health librarian, I actually work with one of the Leyton Orient club doctors. So woeful was the O’s defensive performance prior to half time, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see him striding onto the pitch to check either of the centre-halves for a pulse. Or if not that then to perform an emergency double amputation based on the thinking that, considering their efforts with two fully functioning legs, it might be time to tinker with their bodily formation and see if they might do any better on two weeping stumps.

While it fitted the pattern of the clubs respective league positions, Scunthorpe’s simmering 3rd playing Orient’s sprouting-mould-in-the-fridge 18th, the away side’s domination did rule out the possibility of using the club’s mascots as a visual metaphor, Leyton’s dragon mascot Theo looking cute but deadly in his vibrant red get-up, as compared to the clearly myxomatosis-ridden Scunny Bunny wobbling around as though searching for a shoe-box to climb into.

If any side was going to be buried in the back garden in a ritualistic ceremony for the sake of the kids, it was going to be the home side, and if you really wanted a visual metaphor, with Bunny McFleas letting us down somewhat, perhaps the crisp packets, sandwich bags and Styrofoam tea-cups drifting across the pitch throughout the game would have filled that void. ‘Rubbish’, see? Aren’t I clever? Orient looked perfectly fine going forward, but the back was really letting them down, bottom-group-of-PE-esque stuff being largely responsible for both of Scunthorpe’s first half goals.

Scunthorpe goal one: Grant McCann’s corner was missed completely by Brian Saah’s shiny bonce which meant the ball took Alton Thelwell’s head by surprise, allowing Izzy Iriekpen to take advantage of the ball dropping at his feet and fire home a solid opener. Scunthorpe goal two: Again Orient defended a set-piece like they were idly queuing at a hospital canteen for a carton of Ribena, having to wait for the lady on the till to shout “Can I help you?” for the fifth time before snapping out of their trance. McCann’s free-kick sailed over their stupor, Paul Hayes scampering in to place an untroubled header past keeper Glenn Morris.

It all appeared too large a mountain for the O’s to climb; Scunthorpe’s added class, possibly picked up on their single year sojourn into the Championship last season, looking apparent, if a little aided by Leyton’s defensive haphazardness. However, if ever an incident is going to a change a game, it will be a sending off, particularly that of a keeper. Not that it guaranteed success in this case, hastily introduced sub-keeper Josh Lillis saving Adam Boyd’s penalty, but only pushing it forward so that Boyd could crash in the rebound. “Yes”, I found myself saying, louder than I expected.

After this, with the crowd now behind them, rather than aiming insults at manager Martin Ling and assistant Dean Smith from behind the dugout, the O’s looked a different side, making the most of Scunthorpe’s body-deficit and finding an equaliser not long after, Boyd getting the ball expertly to Stephen Purches who fired above Lillis’ dive. Again, an unfamiliar ‘yes’ from the West Stand.

That both sides had chances to win it was an adequate reflection of the overall game, Orient had to ride their luck, but didn’t squander the opportunity handed to them, and it is that fighting spirit that they will need, given their position in the table. Despite this added soft-spot, I can’t imagine I’ll be going there a lot, not at twenty quid a throw and, besides, you can have as many soft-spots as you like, it’s not the same as being hopelessly enraptured, as I already am elsewhere. However, in terms of clubs I’ll sphincter my lips at when news of their defeat comes through on the Soccer Saturday vidi-printer, then I can now add another one to the list.

Links
Leyton Orient website
Scunthorpe United website

Accompanying me to Brisbane Road was sonic experimentalist type Gliiitches and his 'audio collage' of field recordings taken at the game appear now on his MySpace site.

Havant & Waterlooville 2 Godalming Town 1

11oct08
FA Cup Third Qualifying Round
Westleigh Park, Havant
att. 462

In the effort not to suffer embarrassment in this year’s Cup, or at least not any more of it, following the Shortwood squeak, we made an excellent start against Godalming Town, from two divisions below. Gary Holloway benefited from a fortunate ricochet back off his legs following the keepers save at his feet to start the scoring, then Paul Booth opened his own account after a lengthy spell out on a long and tentative route back from injury with a wonderful run, shimmy and finish.

It’s a good job Boother’s starting to show his shooting credentials, as ‘Luckless’ Luke Nightingale had to depart prior to half-time owing to him feeling ill. I’m not entirely sure what the signal is to the bench that communicates “ee, gaffer, I’m feelin’ right bilious” but he was quickly replaced by Jamie Slabber who came on, running about like a racehorse. A racehorse handicapped to the tune of a couple of anvils in his saddle flaps.

To be fair to Luke he had almost made it 3-0 in the 16th minute, four minutes after Holloway’s goal and not much more than seconds after Booth’s, when he crashed a smart shot off the bar. Clearly the god of goalage doesn’t like Luke much right now. At this point, the Hawk’s vitality and ruthlessness was uncommonly impressive, although Godalming spent the half looking nervy and leggy, and not much like a side up for a scalping.

Clearly their gaffer Chuck Martini, always a blustering presence in his past life as a goalkeeper for Kings Lynn against us, gave the dressing room walls a good tea-cupping at half-time, as they came out looking much brighter, whilst we were clearly wrapped up snugly in our laurels. Graeme Purdy’s 57th minute brought the game back to life, with chances coming at both ends, posts, goal-line clearances and deflections getting in the way of a further goal.

Given our ten minute burst early in the first period, this was a game that should have been over well before half-time but, in keeping with this season in general, heavy-weather was made of what could and should have been taken care of with the minimum of fuss.

Still, we’re in the fourth qualifying round once more, potentially 90 minutes from Leeds or Leicester. To put ourselves in a chance of that we will need to beat Crawley Town at their place. Given that they are currently placed atop the Conference Premier it is, strictly speaking, the toughest draw we could have got.

Mind you, given that our adventures of the last couple of seasons have been prefaced by relatively kind draws in the qualifiers, we can’t really justify a complaint, although we’ll certainly manage a hefty collective sigh. Nothing will ever stop us wanting to have another bite of the Cup-cake.

As a club we have felled bigger trees than Crawley in the (recent) past, but this remains a largely new-look Hawk side, and they will have to raise their game over and above what they have so far shown this season if they want a Cup escapade of their own.

Nothing, though, is impossible as we, rather happily, know only too well.

Shortwood United 0 Havant & Waterlooville 1

30sep08
FA Cup 2nd Qualifying Round replay
The Meadowbank Ground, Nailsworth
att. 310

So, we were on a seven game unbeaten run, we’d just beaten fellow pre-season favourites Chelmsford away from home, looked in decent order and all the panic and disgruntlement from our abject start had largely faded away to a memory. Naturally, we capitalised on this relative equilibrium and that terrific confidence-boosting win at Chelmo by hosting Hampton & Richmond at home and being 57 varieties of awful.

In that game, we weren’t helped by the fact that we had two men (Craig Watkins and Jay Conroy) sent off in one go. Then again, the fact that Hampton had had two tunnelled in the same incident, the ref quickly beginning to look like an amphetamine-chewing Hitler saluting autobahn traffic in the Friday evening rush hour, didn’t exactly give them a helping nudge either. Some teams clearly prepare for life as an IX rather than an XI, and we are not one of those.

Sendings off have become the norm in our games though, although mostly with opposition players being sent to get first use of the soap. However with cap’n Jamie Collins dismissed at home to Bath, then Craig and Jay, we’ve been doing our best to catch up. All in all then not an ideal build-up for our first return to FA Cup action since late January. Never before have we played in two FA Cup tournaments within the same calendar year, but given the chance to do it again, I think we’d say “yeah, go on then.”

FA Cup success has not alleviated our desire for more of the same, despite recognition of the fact we could hardly complain if we saw nought of the rounds proper for some years to come. However, while you might have forgiven us fans a rakish swagger as we approached the second qualifying round once more, the combination of a sound Hampton hammering, injuries and suspensions meant even being drawn at home to Hellenic League side Shortwood United, from three divisions below the Conference South, could not be seen as a nailed-on home banker.

After all, if we can put four goals past the eventual champions of the league three rungs above ours, then who are we to call as ‘impossible’ Shortwood’s mission. However, while our terrace swagger had become an edgy tip-toe, it seemed our players were dismissing Shortwood’s very organised and motivated threat, carrying on like big-time-charlie FA Cup cocks-of-the-walk. Which is weird when you consider that of the XI that started against Shortwood in that original tie, not one of them started the game at Anfield eight months ago. There are several injury, suspension and substitute explanations behind that, but there has been plenty of change since then both long- and short-term.

In the short, keeper Kevin Scriven had been dropped for his part in the Hampton defeat and replaced by former Hawk Academy keeper Nathan Ashmore, while the previous week had seem the final departure of our goal-hungry hero of recent years, Rocky Baptiste, who has gone to join his Anfield strike-partner, Richard Paquette, at Maidenhead United. We will miss his goals, his hair (in Afro and cornrow form), his genially languid manner and the fact that his real name was Jairzinho. To update our terrace chant - “We had Jairzinho, we had Jairzinho…”

In his stead, Jamie Slabber was recalled to the side alongside the still-recovering-from-injury Paul Booth and Craig Watkins. However, all this tinkering, combined with a lacklustre second half performance meant that Shortwood were able to battle and grab a deserved second equaliser in the final minute to force a replay. To keep up recent appearances, both we and they had a player sent off, although both teams planned to use the fact that ITV Local were recording the game to appeal the decisions. Everyone in West Leigh Park, the Shortwood manager, even the referee himself (having seen the footage), believed the decision to dismiss Gary Elphick to be harsh but, sadly, a ref’s sackcloth-and-ashes contrition is no longer enough and we have to pay the FA to adjudicate on his behalf. Not since the Communist Party’s office ‘Secret Santa’ has there been such a keen seeking out of red tape.

So, back to the yellow fruit casing-ridden Meadowbank ground it was. As Salisbury fan Dave Todd suggested on the Tinpot Terrace forum, compare this to our last FA Cup away tie and you have the magic of this competition summed up. However, as nice as it is to visit any new territory, big or small, we as partisan supporters don’t want to be losing to teams you can call, as fact rather than as derision, a village side. Especially when they’re not even the biggest team in the village, Forest Green Rovers having punched above their weight in the Conference for several seasons now just a couple of miles away on the other side of the valley.

Prior to last year’s cup run our biggest scalping had occurred in this very parish, beating FGR 2-1 in the quarter-finals of the FA Trophy in 2003, so the last thing we wanted was to have our vivid memories of Nailsworth tainted by potentially our most calamitous Cup result to date. With Kevin Scriven and Luke Nightingale recalled and Jay Smith returning to the side in a relatively unfamiliar midfield berth despite his unsung utility, in the most part to plug gaps, it is understandable that neither supporters or players looked anything other than nervy in the first half.

With a good sized local crowd in, considering their usual Saturday average of 66, one having fashioned a rather handsome flag glued to a couple of planks, there was a concern that the FA Cup could turn this quiet Gloucestershire village into a cauldron of hate. Thankfully, everyone retained their good nature, although this didn’t stretch to the Shortwood team giving us an easy ride. Spiteful bastards.

At half-time no goals had been scored, despite an Ian Simpemba header that had looped against the bar. Our performance was so lacking in domination, had Shortwood been an over-worked bank-manager keen on dungeons and spanking, they’d have unzipped their leather mask, snatched back the roll of tenners from the rack-side table and wearily gone home to their wife.

The silver-lining was that for all their resistance, Shortwood were creating little and after half-time, we upped our game a touch as we attacked the far end, another header hitting the woodwork five minutes into the second period. However, all our chances were coming to nothing, crosses and headers whistling just out of range. This was causing us to cup the back of our heads with frustration or, for those of us busy texting the info to absent parties, to use our free hand to Stan Laurel in disbelief [see below].

We were able to relax a bit with twenty minutes to go as Gary Holloway, arguably our most consistent player thus far this season, put us into the lead, tidying up after Gary Elphick’s header had been tipped up onto the underside of the bar by goalkeeper Martin Pearce. With five minutes remaining, Craig Watkins had the chance to kill it going one-on-one with Pearce, but sent his shot wide, as is customary.

Into injury time, Shortwood pressed forward, Chris Davis getting into the box and going down under the challenge of Ian Simpemba. With a 23:15 train to catch from Swindon to London to catch and even a lift direct from the ground probably not enough to make the connection if there was to be extra-time, I sucked up a breath probably sharper than most as the ref signalled a penalty kick. Thankfully though, Scrivs guessed correctly and within a minute, time had been called and I could look forward to not only a third qualifying round meeting with Godalming Town, but also to not having to kip on a bench in Swindon bus station.

For which I am forever in Kevin Scriven’s debt.

Road to Wembley
F: Everton 1 Chelsea 2 (att. 89,931)
SF: Manchester United 0 Everton 0 [2-4 pens] (att. 88,141)
6R: Everton 2 Middlesbrough 1 (att. 37,856)
5Rr: Middlesbrough 2 West Ham United 0 (att. 15,602)
5R: West Ham United 1 Middlesbrough 1 (att. 33,658)
4R: Wolverhampton Wanderers 1 Middlesbrough 2 (att. 18,013)
3R: Middlesbrough 2 Barrow 1 (att. 25,132)
2R: Barrow 2 Brentford 1 (att. 3,532)
1R: Havant & Waterlooville 1 Brentford 3 (att. 1,631)
4QR: Crawley Town 0 Havant & Waterlooville 3 (att. 1,253) [dubSteps]
3QR: Havant & Waterlooville 2 Godalming Town 1 (att. 462) [BM87]
2QRr: Shortwood United 0 Havant & Waterlooville 1
2QR: Havant & Waterlooville 2 Shortwood United 2 (att. 422)
1QR: Shortwood United 3 Didcot Town 2 (att. 124)
PR: Shortwood United Christchurch 0 (att. 75)
EPR: Shortwood United 5 Henley Town 0 (att. 46)

Links
Havant & Waterlooville website
highlights of the original tie on ITV Local