Bognor Regis Town 1 Havant & Waterlooville 5

26dec08
Conference South
Nyewood Lane, Bognor Regis
att. 558

Bognor on Boxing Day. Feels as traditional as bacon-wrapped chipolatas and bad cracker jokes the day before. However this is a trick played by the mind and the modern tendency towards an affected nostalgia. It is only since the advent of the South and North sub-divisions back in 2004 that we have come together in the same league and fallen in line with Conference policy of playing our nearest club home and away on Boxing and New Year’s Days. Our Yuletide opposition has remained consistently Bognorish ever since.

This season may well be the last for a while that we get to celebrate our modern tradition as Bognor are having about as nightmarish a season as you can get. Forced to offload the majority of last year’s squad due to severe money issues, their clubhouse was then victim of an arson attack depriving them of their major source of revenue. Having now been demolished, the gap where it once stood is a disheartening sight for those who, at one time or another, have gotten triumphantly pissed in it. Mentioning no names. Ahem.

As a result Bognor manager Mick Jenkins, once of our parish, has been juggling players like flambéd snooker balls, the saloon doors at Nyewood Lane slapping back and forth every week with bodies being thrown both in and out. Given the circumstances and the lack of ready cash, for the fact he’s got them to Christmas with the plates still spinning, ol’ leather-faced Mick deserves a great deal of credit. Indeed, they have battled through these tribulations without being on the end of any stern hammerings either. At least, until now.

After all, as much as we would like to see our friends from down the road stay up and to continue our festive jaunts, we are hardly in a position to be charitable. If we wanted to give them something, we could always have responded, as several did, of contributing to their Christmas fund-raising request that people attending today’s game put unscratched lottery cards in a collection bucket in the hope that magic really can happen. On the field though, we couldn’t be gifting anyone anything, especially being nine points away from even a 12th place berth.

Whether it was that statistic or the impending turn of the year that has focused the players minds of late it is difficult to say, but the last couple of weeks has, finally, seen an upturn in our fortunes. Firstly we deposited serial scalpers Bury Town, of the Southern League Midlands Division, in the FA Trophy courtesy of a Craig Watkins hat trick. The following Saturday, St Albans City were beaten 2-0 at West Leigh Park, a win that certainly did much to re-ignite a little confidence as, I’ll be honest with you, after our lifeless home defeat to Dorchester Town on December 6th, my belief in the current management had been crushed like a grape under the angriest of Stu Francis’ hooves.

Prior to that I’d been trying to suppress the doubts and the negative thoughts like they were partially contained in a massively overpacked suitcase. However, the combination of the Eastleigh and Dorchester defeats with the knowledge that we had gone three months without a league win meant I could hold down the locks on that case no longer, the polo shirts of misery and the underpants of despair bursting out all over the floor.

A 5-1 Boxing Day warmer away from home means now that I have now invested in a much larger suitcase. Plenty of room for the grumpy junk in this trunk. This is not to say that this is the end to the matter, three wins on the bounce are, of course, wonderful but, in the context of the season, they have been an awful, and I mean awful, long time in coming. It is a dawn, but we’ll have to wait and see whether it’s a false one. After all, we’ve ‘turned a corner’ so many times now, it’s become like watching a dog chasing its tail round and round a washbasket whilst the theme music from ‘Catch the Pigeon’ plays increasingly rapidly and loudly on a loop.

The end result doesn’t paint the whole picture of the game, particularly as it was a Kevin Scriven rush of blood that gifted Bognor’s Louis Castles the opportunity to open the scoring in only the third minute. Also, it would be fair to say that we weren’t totally comfortable until the third went in with twenty minutes to go.

Still, it seems churlish to be too pessimistic and critical in the light of a 5-1 away win, as we have not oft known their like, I can tell you, so let us focus on the positives. Chris Tardif, the Bognor goalkeeper - another who has known the love of the Hawkmob (“there’s only one f’in Tardif”) albeit only for a short loan spell from Portsmouth nine years ago – was in excellent form, yet we still put five goals past him. Had it not been for his saves and the stoic intervention of post and bar on a couple of occasions, the score would have flattered us even more. They say imitation is the greatest form of flattery, but I’d take a distended scoreline over someone mimicking my shtick any day of the week.

As the game went on, and particularly after our third spirit-killing goal went in courtesy the high-chaired bonce of Big Robbie Matthews, we looked most unlike our recent selves, confident in the touch, and also in the shot. At one point Brett Poate tried an audacious lob from forty yards that necessitated Tardif (like TARDIS, this is clearly an acronym or mnemonic, possibly for ‘Team Anticipates Regular Defeats in Football’) to scamper like a cat being chased out of a neighbour’s kitchen with a rolling pin to reach and tip over for a corner.

We could see a swagger starting to reveal from the pins-and-needles numbness, like Elvis after a hip replacement, gingerly but increasingly proficiently, practicising his swoon-triggering swing. Further good stuff came from Craig Watkins, notably his wily bit of business on the edge of the box, fox-trotting through a number of defenders before laying the ball off to Charlie Henry, who swept it home with power and telling composure.

In other good news, Jamie Collins scored our equaliser from the penalty spot despite originally being pencilled in for minor heart surgery that would have otherwise kept him away today. God bless the NHS for its delays and late postponements. It must have also been good for our skipper’s confidence given he had placed a spot-kick against the post in the prior game against Stalebuns.

Also, after several years toiling in the desert, maligned striker Luke Nightingale finally wrestled the evil chimp from off his shoulders by taking the fifth with a neat little poacher’s finish. He only scores in 5-1 wins it appears, his last having come during our rout of Basingstoke by that scoreline back in August. The other goal, the fourth, was scored by Ian Simpemba, but as both our central defenders have been amongst our most prolific net-botherers this season we won’t hype this one unnecessarily other than to say it was typically robust stuff coming from the big man’s forehead.

Thus a spring is back in our step, and the pea-souper that had enveloped our outlook has started to disperse, hopefully on retreat without the wherewithal to regroup. Just the right set of the results at the right time, a big 5-1 win over Bognor setting us up nicely for our next game. At home to Bognor. On New Years Day, as discussed.

Previously, on dubSteps
29sep07: Bognor Regis Town 1 Havant & Waterlooville 2
26dec05: Bognor Regis Town 0 Havant & Waterlooville 1

Links:
Bognor Regis Town website
Havant & Waterlooville website

guestSteps: FC Tokyo 5 Jubilo Iwata 1

23sep2008
J League Division One
Ajinomoto Stadium, Tokyo
att. 23,036

What better way to celebrate Christmas than to give everyone a holiday, not least myself. So, folks, we’re all off to Japan and, as is customary, the pencil-shaped Phileas Fogg of Waterlooville leaves his usual position (causing trouble behind the dugouts on the West Leigh Park Popular Bank) to be our guide. Merry Christmas all. Skif.

Arriving in Japan completely jetlagged and astonished at the amount of bowing being aimed in my direction, my first task was to obtain myself a ticket to FC Tokyo v Jubilo Iwata. Knowing no Japanese and armed with my trusty Lonely Planet guide, and more printouts from the hotel staff than you can shake a chopstick at I headed to find a 7Eleven convenience store.

I had read online that you could buy tickets from an Internet vending machine in store so I headed to the branch closest to the hotel. There was a huge queue inside, certainly not the kind of queue who I would want to hamper with my bumbling efforts to find a match ticket. I looked behind the counter, couldn’t see anything promising, saw something that looked promising which I later concluded to be a photocopier, and gave up.

As I sleepily strolled towards the Meji-Jingu shrine, I stumble across another 7Eleven, but far less busy. With a quirky grin I approached the pretty girl at counter and gave it my best “Kuremasen ka?” (“Could you please?”) and received a puzzled but smiling return. I showed my print outs of directions to the stadium, pointed at the photocopier-like machine that was in fact the ticket dispenser and my intentions were finally realised. After further help from an equally cute shop assistant, lots of bad Japanese on my part and broken English on their part, I had myself a match ticket. Completely in Japanese script.

As I proudly strolled on my merry way, beaming with pride for clearing the first hurdle of my J-League experience, I heard footsteps rushing up behind me. The girl from 7Eleven had run out of the store to catch me up, and hand me… an umbrella. To this day I have no idea why. It did look like it was about to rain, so perhaps I had such an impact on her that she’d given me her own umbrella? Or was it an umbrella she’s taken from the shelves of the shop? Did she think it was my own umbrella I’d left behind? Was it a match day promotion of a free umbrella? On arriving at the shrine I noticed many others with the same umbrella and later noticed outside other 7Elevens there were racks of umbrellas outside. The answer I feel most likely to be correct is that in Tokyo you have an umbrella pool, run on honesty, where you take an umbrella for the day on the trust that you return it. Writes the tourist who left his umbrella in the hotel room.

Getting to the Ajinomoto Stadium also posed further obstacles. It was my first experience of the Tokyo subway system and, not only that, the station I needed was off the map. The helpful station staff saw me gaze in bewilderment at the map and came over to help. Moments later I had my Pasmo card and was heading for the correct platform on the correct line. A train arrived and I was on my way, or at least that was what I thought until I realised it didn’t stop where I wanted. Using my new skills of pointing I gestured a girl for help. “Sure! Where are you headed?” she replied, in a thick Californian accent. She later explained that although I was on the correct line, I’d taken the wrong train. I had fallen victim to Tokyo’s varied rail services: local, semi-express, express and super-express. Super.

The Ajinomoto Stadium itself was quite spectacular, a circular stadium with a 50,000 capacity. Although it wasn’t used during the 2002 World Cup, it was used as Saudi Arabia’s training camp. This season was the tenth anniversary of FC Tokyo, and there were lots of banners and merchandise celebrating “moving football”. Fans of static football were to be disappointed. Having no great footballing history in Japan, it seemed quite apparent that rather than for Tokyo to create their own, it was far easier to hijack the best of everyone else’s. The shirts were a clear hijack of Barcelona, the fans flags and banners seemed a hijack of Italian supporters, but the best of all was the club anthem: “You’ll Never Walk Alone”. Before the game the lyrics (in English) were displayed on the big screen, and was belted out by all the supporters. It appeared the man behind me knew every word, and sung as proudly as any Liverpool supporter at the Kop end.

As the team sheet was read out (disappointingly also in English) I was struck by the familiarity of one name: Yoshi Kawaguchi. Having been signed for Portsmouth in 2001, if memory serves me correctly his first two touches in a Pompey shirt were picking the ball out of his net. He only played twelve games in two years, and as a result lost his place in the national team, missing his home World Cup.

The players lined up for the national anthem, and on walking past each other exchanged hearty bows rather than shaking hands. I then discovered why the rest of the world doesn’t take the J League so seriously. I have to say I admired the energy and enthusiasm of the players, but when that isn’t partnered with any great level of skill, it doesn’t lead to total football. Or should I say, “moving football”.

The game was played out and dominated by Tokyo. Yoshi was on top form, being at fault in some way for most of the five Tokyo goals. One was as good as straight through him, another a result of him slipping over whilst the ball was headed back by one of his defenders. The game was fun and exciting to watch, and Tokyo more than deserved their 5-1 victory.

The post game activities then proceeded, and I was cheerfully surprised by what unfolded. The players lined up once again, just as they did at the start, and bowed for the main stand. The Jubilo players then headed over to their supporters and bowed at them. I didn’t quite see how a 5-1 loss was worthy of a bow, but the away fans seemed grateful enough. The Tokyo players then went and bowed to the three sections of the stadium with home support. It was essentially a lap of honour, but for a regular league home game.



Once all the bowing had finished, the man of the match was stood on a podium, his face plastered on a big screen, a microphone under his gullet and given a five-minute interview. He then bowed and returned to the dressing room. The big screen then displayed highlights of the game, which most people stayed to watch. The bulk of the supporters didn’t actually leave the game until at least twenty minutes after the game.

It has to be said that although the standard of football was poor, the entertainment value and quirky Japanese way of running the beautiful game made for an enjoyable afternoon. As I left the stadium I was sad to not be around for the next home game, for it would be “Teddy Bear Day” at the Ajinomoto Stadium.

Adrian Lord


Links
FC Tokyo website (English)
Jubilo Iwata website (English)

Aldershot Town 1 Havant & Waterlooville 4

03nov08
FA Youth Cup 1st Round
Recreation Ground, Aldershot
att. 169

So, there I am. Egged on by Havant & Waterlooville’s reserve goalkeeper, attending this game in support of his ex-Academy colleagues.

So, there I am, responding to his call of “come and join us, Skiffy” like I’m some kind of road-safety squirrel or a bush kangaroo. Not too sure of that cutening of my nickname by our second-string custodian. I should have insisted that while Kevin Scriven can call me Skiffy, he should address me as ‘sir’. These retorts always come about twenty-fours too late.

So, there I am, stood on a barrier at Aldershot Town, arms outstretched, leading assorted members of our Academy reserves and the ladies team through our customised version of Vindaloo/Carnivale de Paris. Not what I’d exactly been expecting of my “quiet night out watching the yoof.”

Not that, as a moustachioed, mortar-boarded, stern type I approved of some of the less savoury chants coming from our teenage stiffs; what they were suggesting West Leigh Park was full of to make it wonderful, for example. It is with great regret that I write that they believe it to be packed with “t**s, f***y and football”. However, when I registered my disgust with the absent guestStepping troubadour Young Adrian later in the week, his reply was “Full of? Frankly I’d like to see more of it”.

Meaning the football.

In a way, that’s why the Hawk London Branch decided on this being our midweek tickle over the first team’s Setanta Shield game the following night. Chelmsford and Crawley aside it’s been quite a frustrating season watching the old yins. Also reaching the propers of the FA Youth Cup is quite a big thing for our Academy side, as it is structured similarly to the FA’s other Cup, the one that isn’t suitable for minors (well, not just for them anyway). As such, they found themselves two wins away from potentially facing Manchester United Youth or some other bunch of Borstal nerks.

Years ago when I still lived in Havant I made a semi-regular Sunday habit of watching our youth team, then managed by non-league legend Dave Leworthy, and why not? That side won every competition they entered that season, the club’s trophy cabinet collapsing under the weight of various mugs, shields and ‘best-in-show’ rosettes. However, it wasn’t quite the breeding ground we had hoped for, with most of that side now either plying their trade in the Wessex League or lost to the game completely. On top of that, when Dave Leworthy made the step-up to first team gaffer, his tenure was to last only ten months.

On taking over the first-team helm, Ian Baird’s cost/benefit analysis printout read simply “HOW MUCH!?!?” and both the youth and reserve sides were disbanded. However in the last two years, the club has established a relationship with the local South Downs College and thus we have a handsomely attired Academy side. As you may have gathered above, there’s a ladies side as well, but that’s a separate concern.

On paper, Aldershot Town away from home, a Football League club these days after all, and on their main pitch, would have seemed quite tough a proposition, but with three players who have featured in the senior side this season (albeit only in a Hampshire Senior Cup defeat to VTFC), our boys were well drilled for the encounter, going at Aldershot from the kick-off and taking a lead in the second minute, via Alex Baldacchino’s swede. In a brief setback Aldershot equalised almost instantly, courtesy a gorgeous thirty-yard drive by Adam Mekki, much to the delight of the single Aldershot Ultra stood behind the goal next to us surrounded by about five flags, the one on a stick being so massive you could have swaddled a couple of rhinos in it. Clearly for us and Aldershot, this season is all about the FA Youth Cup.

However, it is for Aldershot no longer as after weathering a brief period of pressure, the toddling Hawks took control. On twenty-three minutes, Jack Farrugia barrelled through Aldershot keeper Matt Peglar to re-take the lead. Perhaps unsurprising that our opening goals came from ‘Cappuccino’ and ‘Fudge’ given they are two of those who have tasted first team action. Seeing this, some of the others were clearly keen to impress, with Tony Lumb calmly finishing for the third just after the half hour then, early in the second half, after Peglar mis-timed a kick against him, Craig Ralph slotted home into the empty-net from the edge of the box, getting the strength of his shot just right given the ball could well have held up on the increasingly drizzle-sodden pitch.

After that, the youth didn’t look in danger and not even a second yellow card for Tony Lumb (Aldershot’s Carlton Cox departing at the same time) could dampen the enthusiasm, the on-pitch celebrations showing it meant to make it to the second round, where they would play away again against another League Two club’s youth side, in this case Barnet.

*since this article was written, Jack 'Fudge' Ferrugia was involved in a nasty car crash and is at the start of what may be a long period of recovery. dubSteps naturally wishes Jack all the best and hope he's back to putting in quality displays, such as that against Aldershot, in the future.

Links
Aldershot Town website
Havant & Waterlooville website

guestSteps: Didcot Town 0 AFC Totton 1

08nov08
Southern League Division 1 South & West
Loop Meadow Stadium, Didcot
att. 239

Once again, the floor is opened for a guest to step. Our Black & White and Read All Over chum Ben comes down to our level once more, this time investigating the scene close to his Oxfordshire billet, as Didcot take on Totton in the Southern League Scarf & Vest. This brought him in close proximity to greatness; Hawk record appearance-maker and goalscorer 'Super' Jimmy Taylor nowadays turning out for Totton. Not that Ben noticed. Obviously Jim isn't drawing attention to himself by wailing at refs, or going down in the box should anyone so much as breathe on him, quite so much anymore. Skif

Another free Saturday, another opportunity to scratch the Guest Steps itch – and this time rather closer to my current home.

The Loop Meadow Stadium, christened with a name which dishonestly suggests fragrant flowers, gambolling lambs and fair maidens, actually turns out to be a fenced-off pitch in the midst of a housing estate in the town best described as the arsehole of Oxfordshire. (Plus the housing estate in question is called Ladygrove – surely a euphemism?)

The football team that call the stadium home, Didcot Town, aren’t known as the Railwaymen for nothing, the ground being adjacent to the train tracks (as was the old one, bulldozed in 1999) – which is a blessing if, like me, your train only arrives ten minutes before kick-off. It’s also in the shadow of Didcot’s very own dreaming spires, the cooling towers of the power station – hence shirt sponsors npower.

Didcot steamed to the summit of the BGB Southern League Division 1 South & West (phew!) table in midweek with a 6-2 demolition of Burnham in which craggy-faced centre-back Martin Brown plundered a first-half hat-trick, but today’s opponents AFC Totton are a different prospect. Newly promoted and blessed with what I’m reliably informed (by the guv’nor of this very site) is a very talented squad, Totton briefly topped the table themselves earlier in the season and have only slid down because they’ve played fewer games than their promotion rivals.

Still, it’s the home side who start the better, seemingly determined to carry on where they left off against Burnham, and within a few minutes of my arrival Totton’s ‘keeper has already been forced into three saves plucked from the drawer marked “Top”.

The early storm is weathered, and as the entertainment levels gradually subside on the pitch, my attention drifts to goings-on off it, and particularly to the vociferous and frequently comical support lent to the visitors by a handful of fans clustered in what passes for an away end – a oversized corrugated dugout – to my right. One dubious decision in Totton’s favour by the man running the line elicits a chant of “We love you lino, we do” – well, either that’s the cause or they’re B&Q staff out on a day trip to sing the praises of cheap and practical floor coverings. There then follows a lusty rendition of “Pink army, pink army!” in reference to their side’s interesting choice of shirt colour. The concept of a “pink army” is hardly intimidating, though – presumably if you were to come under attack from them, they’d try to tickle you to death with a feather duster…

The players at last give them something to cheer five minutes before the interval, striker Mark Osman lashing in a volley just beneath the bar when Didcot make the cardinal error of failing to clear a cross properly. It’s a half-time lead they scarcely deserve – Didcot have had more opportunities, a couple as a result of untimely slips by Totton defenders, and left-back Matt Bicknell in particular has got some joy going forwards even if his right-foot shots have left a lot to be desired.

I make my way past the grumbling old men – all in a variety of hats, some of which are flat, and supping from flasks of tea – to the food bar where the scant contents of my wallet condemn me to asking for a plain burger (£2) and a tea (60p) when what I really want is a cheeseburger (£2.50) and a coffee (80p). Thankfully the woman behind the counter is sympathetic to my plight and, with an exaggerated wink, hands me a cheeseburger for no extra charge. Nice to see that, since all that US election hoopla, Sarah Palin has clearly found her true vocation. Just a shame that what she handed me – a plasticy roll filled with a lukewarm slice of gristly meat and some nuclear orange processed cheese – barely answers to the description of food at all.

“Where’s your Thomas gone?”, the away fans sung in the first half, but for the second the steam train’s back, chuffing and tooting away up on the line. For the Didcot players, the steam is coming out of their ears, as a couple of fierce tackles result in the flash of yellow cards – including one for long-serving captain Jamie Heapy, whose scything assault on Totton’s left winger would have impressed even the Grim Reaper.

Saves are made at either end before Didcot manager Stuart Peace (yes, really) takes the curious decision to throw on a big man but then play him wide on the right, preferring to push the pacy Elliott Osborne-Ricketts through the middle. The one-time Chelsea schoolboy is arguably Didcot’s brightest spark as the home side increase the pressure, but Totton are nevertheless the more dangerous on the counterattack, one effort clawed away by Michael Watkins and another miraculously scrambled off the line as the impressive Osman stretches the Didcot back four.

As time ticks away, tempers fray and a Didcot player’s despairing lunge at the Totton ‘keeper precipitates a massive bout of handbags. The referee’s response is to blow his whistle repeatedly and hysterically, as though he thinks it’s 1988 and he’s at an acid house rave in an abandoned warehouse just outside the M25. “He’s sent six trains off!”, chuckles one wag near me. Yellow cards are then doled out like Daniel Levy hands out P45s, the ref urged to hurry up with a shout of “Come on Mr Bean”.

Despite a consequent period of stoppage time that is of such a length we might be watching Man Utd 1-0 at Old Trafford, no equaliser is forthcoming. I guess the home side just ran out of steam.

Ben Woolhead

Eastleigh 2 Havant & Waterlooville 0

29nov08
Conference South
Ten Acres (Silverlake Stadium), Eastleigh
att. 913

As with tubs of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. As with the quality of films in the Star Wars series. As with the comfort of knowing there’s a Woolies on the high street and thus Pick n’ Mix cherry lips are never too far away. As, now, with our undefeated record against Eastleigh. All good things, rather sadly, must come to an end.

One of m'Hawk chums, who has watched Waterlooville and subsequently H&W for the best part of 30 years, has the perspective that, in many ways – in terms of attendances, money in the bank and national reputation - we’ve never had it so good. I agree. It is a cast iron fact that the last 12 months have been the best our club, or its antecedents, have experienced. However, on the field, it is becoming less and less fun by the week and there's only so many months without a league win that our faith will take. The thing with thrill rides is that they too must reach a halt.

It feels now that this year’s cup run, being on the telly with everyone reminiscing about last season and all that, wasn’t part of that ride, but actually just us queuing at the photo booth afterwards to get a picture of ourselves screaming; those pictures usually being taken at the start of a steep descent. The screaming in those pictures would denote excitement and thrill. Pictures of us now would still find us screaming, but with angst as the catalyst.

For sure, we won against Fisher Athletic in the Trophy last week, but you have to factor in that Fisher are now potless, fire-fighting with amateur players, packing the box with battling legs when under pressure and essentially sending out their side to throw themselves on any bombs to soak up the blast. However, we created enough chances in a fairly comfortable, in the end, 2-0 win to suggest we might be able to go to Eastleigh and still be able to strut around afterwards in that superior peacock-ish manner that comes with never having lost to your local rivals.

Our recent history with Eastleigh has been well documented on these pages (see the ‘Previously…’ links below to re-acquaint), but to re-open old issues here won’t mean we get this weekend’s three points back. As supporters, we’ve done the moral high-ground thing and we’ve done the winning and drawing thing, and we’ve not been shy to register our displeasure at their modus operandi nor to lord it after once again keeping a zero in the losses box.

With Eastleigh’s hierarchy having this week publicly chided their Supporters Club for not running a festive raffle this year, we thought prior to the game that if worst came to the worst we could always start La donna è mobile-ing “We’ve got a Christmas draw, we’ve got a Christmas draw”, but when that very worst kind of worst actually came, we thought better of it. After all, consolations wouldn’t have come that scant since Bon Accord centre-forward Tam McThrifty reacted to the final whistle at the end of their 36-0 defeat to Arbroath in 1885 by picking up the ball, placing it in the six-yard box and hammering it into the roof of the empty net before turning round, blowing a raspberry and waggling two fingers of each hand in the direction of the home side. The home side having long since left the field.

Thus, out there on the terraces and on the forums, it is now our turn to take a few punches, and to prove we’ve got the chin for it. However, on the field and in terms of our league season, it’s fair to say we’re currently kissing the canvas, our eyes whirring around like those of Wile E. Coyote, upon receipt of a giant mallet to his bonce. You could say it makes it even worse that Eastleigh currently sit 3rd to our 16th, with more than double the points tally, but if we measured everything we did against Eastleigh, just cos of the whole manager thing and the tapping up business, then we really would be missing the bigger picture.

Which is this: we are now two points from the relegation spots. We have three home games in the following eight days, two of which represent our games in hand. Lose more than one and we could find ourselves buried deep amongst it, our hopes for the season lost like a battered old cricket ball in an untended hedgerow. With it seemingly out of reach, entangled in the brambles, have we the inclination to try and retrieve it; to pull our sleeves up over our hands, dig in amongst the thorns and nettles and maybe suffer a few scratches and nicks, or will we poke at it listlessly with a stick before ultimately giving up and going home?

The next eight days will almost certainly be pivotal in working out where we go from here, and who with.

Previously, on Dub Steps
01apr08: Eastleigh 1 Havant & Waterlooville 1
22dec07: Havant & Waterlooville 1 Eastleigh 0
09apr07: Havant & Waterlooville 1 Eastleigh 1

Links
Eastleigh website
Havant & Waterlooville website