Havant & Waterlooville 1 Woking 1

26dec09
Conference South
West Leigh Park, Havant
att. 1,007

When, just after the hour, Woking’s Jamie Hand was tunnelled for clattering into Steve Walker like a pigeon flying into a French window, my immediate thought was “I’ve got a bad feeling about this”. Let’s put this into context. We were leading 1-0 at the time, courtesy of Ian Simpemba's first half strike, and were in the midst of gaining a numerical advantage in terms of bodies as well.

I’ve long thought of myself as a positive thinker when it comes to football. Turns out I have a rose-tinted view of my having rose-tinted views. Looking at the remark above, my predilection these days appears to be towards pessimism.

However I can’t entirely blame the first half hour of humdrum football for that, given that I spent all of that time watching it over my shoulder whilst in the tea bar queue. There was little reward for my stoicism either. I like a nice dark, hearty tea ordinarily; swarthy and muscular like a Turkish weightlifter. Today’s was as pallid as a sleep-deprived haemophiliac.



So it was possibly the liquid based grumps that had me fretting, rather than celebrating, Hand’s dismissal. Although I’ve certainly watched enough football at this level to know that having an extra man is not always the boon it appears to be on paper.

To prove that point, within barely minute of Hand’s removal and ‘the fear’ applying its grip we had conceded a penalty kick that Guiseppe Sole eagerly capitalised upon, untroubled by Aaron Howe’s dive.

Mind you, whilst his guesswork and, quite often, his goal-kicking leave a lot to be desired, we probably had Aaron to thank for shepherding us from defeat with the brilliant finger-tip saves he pulled off in each half. Sole will also be cursing the post for keeping out his long range shot.

Despite this, to be fair to our depleted forward line (both Manny Williams and Mustafa Tiryaki were suspended, leaving Steve Hutchings as a lone wolf), Woking keeper Ross Worner also needed to be on form to make a superb one-handed save from Hutchings as our man bore down upon him like baby leopard careering excitedly in the direction of a deaf zebra.

In injury time, Woking found themselves a further man down as substitute Nathan Pinney saw red for his involvement in a spat with Aaron Howe. There was not time to capitalise though as the final whistle blew within a minute but, after all, if playing ten men is, illogically, a problem, then playing nine can only worsen that headache so we should, perhaps, be thankful.

MERRY CHRISTMAS & HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Stuff about Havant & 'Ville plus occasional random neutralling will continue to appear here, albeit perhaps slightly less regularly, in 2010. Thanks for reading.


Hobo in my pocket #31

Previously, on dubSteps
10apr09: Wolverhampton Wanderers 3 Southampton 0

South Kilburn 2 Hendon 3

12dec09
London Senior Cup 3rd Round
Vale Farm Sports Centre, Wembley
att. 65


Since being required to leave the wonderful Claremont Road, their home since 1926, Hendon have been getting to know Wembley FC’s Vale Farm ground for just over a year now, making themselves as comfortable as anyone ever is when borrowing someone else’s slippers. It’ll take a while yet before it genuinely feels like home, if it ever does.

Today, though, they could crack their knuckles, take a lungful and survey the entire estate as this fixture took place but a sliced ‘Ey, who’s injured keeps?’ goalkick away in the Sports Centre adjacent to Wembley FC that, in theory, handed territorial advantage to South Kilburn for this London Senior Cup tie.

Going into the game, Kilburn were 4th in the Hellenic League’s Division One East, while three levels higher, in the Isthmian Premier Division, Hendon were 18th, separated from the relegation places only thanks to a superior goal difference to Margate. When one took into account the credence given to county and regional FA competitions by more senior non-league clubs when they have their status to fight for, this game was difficult to call despite the difference in not only status, but history.



Hendon formed, as Christ Church Hampstead, in 1908, making them 97 years older than South Kilburn. The driving force behind the latter’s formation, Mick Jennings, remains in joint charge of their first team, alongside Dennis Labastide. It is to be assumed that Hendon gaffer Gary McCann was not in attendance at his club’s investiture.

Another variable to add into the mix is the more senior club “not really fancying it”. This happens in all competitions, of course, but particularly when partially cosseted semi-professionals have to knock around a ramshackle county league facility (the Havant & Waterlooville side that lost to Wessex League Bournemouth Poppies in the Hampshire Senior Cup a fortnight ago, I am very much looking at you).

So, the ground. Well, Gerrard Winstanley, leader of the 17th century political sect The Diggers, published a book in 1649 entitled The True Leveller’s Standard Advanced which, historians believe, was either about man’s right to live off the land, or an assessment of today’s pitch. If anything will grind the good out of a semi-pro’s legs, it’s a surface that makes the Cairngorms look like a relief model of an ironing board and which has pockets of sanded areas that look like they might consume the less active players in its sticky porridge.



In the first few minutes of the game, it appeared that any one of the Hendon XI could be susceptible to slowly descending into the sodden shitcake, as the 1:30pm kick off (due to insufficient floodlighting) seemed to have caught them as bleary eyed as a ketamine comedown.

Six minutes in, some hopeless defending left Kilburn’s Eric Hamilton one-on-one with Hendon keeper James Reading, but the first time shot only found the keeper’s legs. Five minutes later Hamilton found himself once again in the box and his curved shot was pawed away by Reading but only as far as Eri Deda who calmly slotted the ball over the now prostrate keeper [see above].

In the twenty second minute, Hendon’s James Bent was fouled in the box and dusted himself down sufficiently to send Kilburn keeper Chris Christie the wrong way from the spot. This completed the scoring for the first half, Hendon’s territorial advantage not being turned into goals largely through a reluctance to pull the trigger after some very good build up play.



On the nearside touchline, linesman Martyn Cannon requested that a large plank of chipboard be removed from the section he was supposed to be patrolling only to discover that it was covering a large, protruding drain cover. He decided to take his chances with the drain. “This is nice and pleasant” said a Hendon sub tapping his toe against its rusty lid before contemplating the horror of a sliding tackle continuing over the touchline and over it. It was a fair point. Clearly ground grading for the Hellenic Division One East reads simply “No used hypodermics in the centre circle! No lakes of dog piss in the goalmouths! All else fine”.

Upon the churned up dirt track that separates the pitch from the leisure complex is a skip and next to it, rather than in it, lie a number of discarded locker units with their flaps gaping, making it look like an Ikea pigeon loft. Perhaps it was because of this that a number of gulls congregated above us for a while, clearly believing a heated swimming pool to trump the sea on a bitterly cold day such as this. However their agitated screeches and squawks betrayed the fact that more than one of them had forgotten to bring out their Brent Leisure Centres membership card.

Five minutes into the second half, a pub car park was quickly assembled in Kilburn’s half so that their gigantic midfielder Damien Bedierer could headbutt Hendon’s diminutive Kevin Maclaren, stooping considerably to do so. Maclaren then weighed in with a few solid punches to the breadbasket. With both reluctant to finish their blow-trading, both were sent off but only Bedierer to the changing rooms. The public making use of the facilities might have found them distinctly less leisurely had the two men continued their cartoon-esque whirlwind of a rumble inside the building.



Hendon initially responded better to their reduction to ten, scoring within a minute of the restart. Lubomir Guentchev managed to get a toe-end on the ball before Christie could wrap his hands around it, and as the ball looped in the air, Casey Maclaren was first to react and head the ball into the gaping net. A minute later, the same player almost scored again but Christie was quicker to react this time, tipping over the bar.

On attempting to take a corner, Hendon’s Scott Cousins discovered there was another jutting drain right in his run-up. “Is this a fuckin’ wind up ref” he squawked, “How’m I supposed to take this?” I’m not sure how him loosening the lid and balancing it on top like he was about to microwave a soup in it helped matters but the corner made its way in regardless.

South Kilburn, having already worked their way past Clapton and Dulwich Hamlet in this competition weren’t going to surrender gladly though and eventually found their second wind, Eri Deda unleashing a 35 yard speculative shot that crashed against the join of post and bar and inspired a gut-punched “Ooooh” from the majority of the crowd.

However within two minutes, Hendon extended their lead. Laudibly James Bent refused to go down after running into the box and getting a tap on the shin. He dragged his subsequent shot somewhat but the Kilburn substitute Gareth Brobbin’s slide was only so well timed as to poke the ball home on Bent’s behalf. Still Kilburn refused to droop and three minutes into injury time, they got their second. Scott Nelmes had a shot well saved by Reading but only onto the toes of Scott Cousins for a rebound that bobbled into the back of the net.



Six minutes into sorting-out-the-fight added time, and with South Kilburn throwing everyone forward, everyone was surprised when Hendon sub Jamie Busby found himself onside behind the pushed up defence and only the keeper to run in on. However, the surprise clearly stretched to the player himself as he dragged his shot wide of the post. Faced with the choice of laughing or ending the game, ref Tony King blew the three parps that ended Kilburn’s spirited involvement in this year’s metropolitan competition.

Hendon will go on to face one of Brimsdown Rovers, Redbridge or Hanwell Town (the first two’s second round tie being a bit behind schedule) away from home. They would do well to be wary of Hanwell particularly as they have set out their commitment to winning this year’s Senior Cup by beating Cockfosters 8-7 on penalties after a 4-4 draw in the first round, then dispensing with Croydon courtesy of the odd goal in eleven in the second.

Given those results and Hendon’s attacking and defensive merits shown during this game, if that tie comes to pass then it’ll be a guarantee of, well, a scoreless draw I imagine.

Road to the Final
QF: Brimsdown Rovers/Redbridge/Hanwell Town ? Hendon ?
3R: South Kilburn 2 Hendon 3
2R: Dulwich Hamlet 1 South Kilburn 2 [aet]
1R: South Kilburn 3 Clapton 0

Chroesawa at Cymraeg

A new review, of Welsh language contemporary folk act 9Bach, now appears on the Vanity Project site.

Thurrock 0 Havant & Waterlooville 0

05dec09
Conference South
Thurrock Hotel, Thurrock
att. 246 (ahem)

A month or two ago my colleague in Hawkdom, Ade Oakley, was searching around for ideas to what he might call his new blog on the Conference South Guide site. His first suggestion was ‘A Tale of Two Cities’, which was nice and snappy, even if the prosaic truth might be more “A Tale Of Quite a Big Town And A Slightly Smaller Town Based In The Same Borough Just Outside Of A City.”

In the end, he settled on ‘Now We’ll Never Be Divided’ taken from our very occasionally sung, Sham 69 based chant that reflects upon our club being the union of two others. It did get me thinking however as to what other Charles Dickens books might be usable for club-based blogs. Mind you, given his appetite for titular characters, there isn’t a great deal of candidates.

‘Hard Times’ would probably be shared around season-by-season, bestowed upon whichever club was staring hardest at the wall. This season, Weymouth and Lewes would probably have taken it on time-share. ‘Great Expectations’ could, similarly, be given to any number of clubs including, I dare say, my own, although that probably would have applied more last season than this.



When it comes to ‘Bleak House’ every non-league follower in the country could nominate at least one club for the ‘honour’, whether they mean it to refer to a place they traditionally do less than well, or just a place they find austere and depressing. It is for the latter reason that I choose Thurrock as, over the years, it’s been a pretty happy hunting ground. Six wins (if you include a 4-0 win over Dartford nine years ago when they shared the ground with the then-named Purfleet FC) and a draw (plus one abandonment when leading 1-0) is a return I doubt we could rival at many other away grounds that we’ve visited regularly.

Indeed it is only a short British fortnight since we last went there, coming away with a 4-1 win in the FA Trophy. It is also quite a neat little ground with a chocolate box of a main stand and a quaint brick outhouse that houses the dressing rooms. Yet, it’s location just off the M25, next to a hotel in the middle of nowhere relatively speaking means it is hardly Worcester or Weymouth in terms of being rock solid beano territory.

As a result of this location, very few people go to watch them, and this hardly makes for a winning atmosphere. Today’s fixture was announced as 246 but I’d be astonished if any more than half that were inside the ground. Rumours over the years have suggested that guests staying at the Thurrock Hotel receive match tickets as part of their deal which inflates the numbers but I can’t vouchsafe for their credibility.

If so, it is probably for the best that wedding party that appeared to be staying there didn’t come in, as I’m not sure what the more caustic wits behind the goal would have made of the shocking pink outfits. Some of these outfits were on nine year olds and just in one glance at them I counted 76 kinds of wrong and 14 shades of “BY CHRIST! WHAT WE’RE YOU THINKING!”

Now I’m no Trinny, and not much of a Susannah, but lots of bare flesh, mini skirts and high heels should, surely, be discouraged for people still studying the middle school curriculum. I suppose one might argue that at least they brightened up the place. Perhaps I am tainted by the walk we London Branchers traditionally undertake from Purfleet station to the ground which passes a derelict factory looking on the verge of collapse, an oil storage depot and about two shops in its 40 minute duration and little else.

With the dankness of winter and returning rain hanging over the wet ground, and a performance turning from fair to middling to wretched in a fairly rapid manner, this ol’ house was even more bleak than usual this weekend. After twenty minutes I turned to my chums and said “I feel confident” as things were going quite well, Thurrock didn’t look much cop and good in-roads were being made.

We have been here before though and I was quick to add “Oh dear” to the previous remark knowing that nothing is more likely to scupper us than a resurgence in my belief. As the game went on, Hotel Greyskull’s neon signage grew ever brighter amidst the drizzle, peering over the playing area from its mezzanine plinth, and beneath it, like a portrait in an attic, the Hawks dimmed by way of contrast.

A nil-nil draw away from home against a team who have been up among more celebrated names in the play-off places for most of the season is not to be sniffed at but the worry is that despite the odd good result, the early season vitality is unlikely to return.

This past week we have won a game, drawn a game and been scalped by a side three leagues below us in the Hampshire Senior Cup so in theory a mixed bag but the most worrying thing is that the only goal in that lot has come from a kindly opposition boot and not in an ‘oooh wicked deflection’ way.

Our attacking force, so lively at the start of the campaign, is in absentia, mainly because the one source of those marvellous goals, Manny Williams, seems to have lost his mojo somewhat. He was so off the pace today, had it been a 10,000 metres steeplechase, he’d have been danger of being lapped by a rusty shopping trolley with a missing wheel and no external means of propulsion. One hopes that his confidence and form can return in the coming weeks as he was largely the reason that the first couple of months of the season were so enjoyable.

This draw would have been much more acceptable if it hadn’t followed a humiliation at the hands of a Wessex League side or if there had been anything other than a racking up of injuries (Ryan Woodford, Wes Fogden) and suspensions (Manny) by way of incident. This was pretty poor showing (after the initial burst) against a team that offered very little by way of threat. To put it simply, this was a rubbish game in a ground with all the party atmosphere of an Amish memorial service. As another of my terrace colleagues, Spud, remarked towards the end of the game, “It’s been like watching Bolton play Bolton”.

That line, I think it’s fair to say, was the highlight of the entire 90 minutes.

Previously, on dubSteps
04mar08: Thurrock 0 Havant & Waterlooville 2