Whyteleafe 2 Leatherhead 6

22apr11
Isthmian League Division One South
Church Road, Whyteleafe
att. 189

The old joke runs that if you play a country and western song backwards, you get your house back, your wife back, your dog back etc. etc. Today the soundtrack of Whyteleafe left-back Sam Akokhia’s life was that of a country song played in the standard manner, only in funeral march slow-mo, and when I say ‘a song’, I mean ‘an LP’.

Whyteleafe went into this baking hot Good Friday fixture not entirely certain of their safety at the bottom of the Isthmian South, whilst third place Leatherhead were on a run of five wins in six, and long guaranteed a play-off place. Indeed, the two sides wrestling above them for one automatic promotion spot, Bognor Regis Town and Met Police, go into the final week of the season knowing that being the loser in that battle and having to enter a play-off competition with a side in Leatherhead’s form will be of scant consolation; like missing out on the hamper in a charity raffle and then getting punched in the face for having bought a ticket.

With Whyteleafe having conceded 50 goals more than Leatherhead so far this season, and scored 30 less, the promise of goalsch, a resounding away win and a light browning of the arms on the terraces brought a good deal of away support (with a few of us neutrals making the most of the fact our clubs were playing on the Saturday) out to Church Road, the turnstiles (purchased in 1997 from Stoke’s old ground) clicked round at twice its standard rate.

Whyteleafe, in the quiet and leafy Landridge district of Surrey but tickling the nether regions of the London Borough of Croydon like the gusset of a boxer short, is not the kind place you expect to find a knockabout Ryman League ground. Here though, between the country estates, the farms and the stables, sits a couple of stands (one erected in 1999 prior to their hosting of Chester City in the first round of the FA Cup), a club shop selling dusty old Saint & Greavsie annuals, and a PA system reducing a surprising musical choice for this parish of ‘Anarchy In The UK’ to a resigned whisper.

Still, whilst this feels like a sleepy place you could happily retire to, the game was anything but hushed, the sun slow cooking the players’ tempers, and Whyteleafe contributing to their own early downfall by, well, selecting the hapless aforementioned Akokhia to play a game I’m not entirely convinced he was previously familiar with. With a whole minute yet to register on the stop-watch, Jack Macleod had stolen the ball from Akokhia as he idly let a cross bobble on his head at the back, threaded across the box to Tommy Hutchings who planted to ball in the top corner to the delight of the vocal ‘Head fans collected behind the goal [see below]. 50 seconds in and the £20 Golden Goal prize already claimed.

Ten minutes later, our daydreaming unbeliever at the back was slow to react to a long ball, allowing Greg Andrews to race past unimpeded and score. Now, if anything is going to shake your team-mates confidence in you, it is probably to tear off your shirt and head towards the dressing room. Eventually he was convinced to remain and replaced the shirt over his head, leaving it bunched up over his face for a while to hide his shame.

Six minutes later ‘Leafe assistant manager Neil Brooks exasperatedly remarked “jesus, what’s happening…he’s having a ‘mare” as Akokhia went in soft on Hutchings as he stole in at the near post to flick home a third. At this point, Whyteleafe gaffer Nicky English bounded around from his position on the terraces, a touchline ban not really meaning much at this level when you can lean over a fence whilst stood about three feet where you would have been ordinarily. Changes were suggested, given the fact that Leatherhead, having found themselves in a DVD extras package of Keystone Kops out-takes, were now pumping everything down the left channel.

Thing stayed as they were for the time-being, and the onslaught died down a little, although Leatherhead were able to add a fourth prior to half-time, Greg Andrews’ flick getting palmed away by ‘Leafe keeper Michael Lidbury like an octopus batting away a large plant pot being flung at it, but the rebound caught Lidbury in all a tangle and bobbled far enough over the line for the linesman to dart off in the direction of the half-way line. By now English was furious, but mostly with what he regarded as an over-physicality on the part of the opposition, taking the two-can-play-at-that-game approach in remarking “just f**king wipe these c**ts out now, just f**king wipe ‘em out.”

For lovers of violence, there was to be no wiping out, although the occasional bit of handbags broke out, whilst, more sadly, for fans of slapstick comedy, Akokiah did not survive to see the second half. For a while, this brought a little stability to the Leafe effort and it took until the 63rd minute for the Tanners to get the kind of space they were taking for granted in the first period. Sol Paterson-Bonner barrelled down the right but Andrews crashed the ball into the roof of the terrace. Leatherhead captain Chris Boulter was able to do better two minutes later as after a scramble he battered the shine off it and allowed the net to billow.

Five minutes later they made it six when Paterson-Bonner followed up a tip-away by Lidbury from Ken Terry’s cross. At this point, one might have assumed that Whyteleafe might collapse but completely against the run of the previous eighty minutes, they dominated the final ten and were able to score two consolations courtesy of substitute Stephane Gnamore and almost had a third twice in injury time when Kyei Banton made a great run only for Fabien Batchelor to head over then Batchelor, again with his head, hit the post.

Despite this stepping off of the gas for the final moments Leatherhead will go into the play-offs brimming with confidence while Whyteleafe still require a point from their final two games to be absolutely sure of staying up.

Ilford 0 Grays Athletic 2

16apr11
Isthmian League Division One North
Cricklefield Stadium, Ilford
att. 128

Here in the east London/Essex borders there has been much talk recently about the use of an Olympic facility for football. I’m not entirely sure why this should be big news, apart from the FA ignoring its own rules and a proud club being strangled for not being as big as the club that will soon be under its skin and withering them like a tumour. All seems fairly standard Football Association practice to me, where’s the story, eh?

Besides, there is already a stadium hosting senior football in east London that has Olympic pedigree, the Cricklefield here in Ilford having hosted preliminary fixtures for the 1948 Games. Mind you I’m not sure West Ham would be so keen on jamming their fan base into this place as they would the slightly roomier new gaff near Stratford. They clearly like running tracks though so who knows?

Here, about 30,000 loyal Hammers would have to watch from the large graveyard next door which, although I’m no expert, might not exactly meet Premier League regulations. Or indeed moral ones; when people buried their relatives here it was probably not in the hope that one day they would act as foundations to a giant human pyramid singing about bubbles.

In any case, there’d be no room in the schedule for another team here as Ilford already play landlord to fellow Isthmian North side Waltham Forest. It’s not the only thing they share either as these two clubs are currently the last remaining teams engaged in the relegation battle in this division, both scrapping away for the last pocket of air in a cave rapidly filling with water. There is only one spot, Leyton FC having resigned earlier in the season, and one of the Cricklefield sides will fill it. Clearly this has not been the venue to see home wins this year. A rare one today would, however, virtually guarantee safety for Ilford.

However, they found themselves hosting a Grays side still with a shout, albeit a muted one, of making the play-offs and with a relatively large collective of fans in tow, especially for this level in the London area where 40-60 sized crowds are standard at most venues, including this one.

Of course, this time last year Grays were in the Conference Premier but then had a nightmare summer where they had to leave their home of 114 years, the Recreation Ground, and with the money running out the club resigned from the Conference structure and were placed into the bottom tier of the Isthmian League.

One imagines the morale must have been pretty low at the start of this campaign, what with the three division drop, the ground share arrangement with East Thurrock United, and the limited playing budget. However the supporters seemed in good spirits here, and why not after a mid-week 9-0 thumping of Cheshunt, which added a goal-difference element which might prove to be vital in their pursuit of post-season extras, given they still require snookers.

In the dug-out Grays have former West Ham hard man Julian Dicks as manager, but my expectations here were somewhat confounded, Given his on-pitch reputation I was expecting throbbing temples and spit, the Malcolm Tucker of the technical area. Instead he appeared relatively gentle in his direction, to the point where I was imaging the post-match dressing room debrief might consist of some warm milk and a chapter from The Magic Faraway Tree.

Still, however he went about his business, it was enough for Grays to get what they needed on a surface so dusty it made you shudder to think what the top of their door frames might be like and which was causing problems to their pursuit of rhythm. They had to wait for the second period to score, Duran Reynolds threading a beautiful ball between the central defenders after 50 minutes, allowing Alex Osborn to run through and place the ball beyond Ilford keeper Robert Budd.

With quarter of an hour remaining they made it two. Jason Fontaine danced through an Ilford defence that were collapsing and rolling about like empty plastic bottles in a stiff draft, before knocking on to Osborn who threaded the ball to the on-rushing Eljay Worrell who checked inside and placed his shot inside the post despite the attentions of Budd and a defender stood on said post.

Grays move forward albeit with the recognition that it might have to wait another year, whilst Ilford will have been relieved that, over at borough neighbours Waltham Abbey, their tenants had been on the wrong side of a 5-4 thriller. Ilford and Waltham Forest have three games each left to play with Forest needing to make up six point and 12 goal gaps. The surgeons working on their club’s battered body look wearied, resigned and ready to issue the certificate.

Boreham Wood 1 Havant & Waterlooville 0

09apr11
Conference South
Meadow Park, Boreham Wood
att. 168

As you leave Elstree & Borehamwood station and head in the direction of the town centre, the football club and, most notably, Elstree film studios, you find yourself stepping on the names of some of the leading actors that, I guess, would have worked at said studios over the years. Each name encased in a star, it’s pretty much a low-rent Hollywood Boulevard but nonetheless uses its limited space wisely to showcase the real titans of the film business: Jack Nicholson; Peter Sellers; and, of course, Reg Varney.

Nowadays Elstree is most well known as the home of Eastenders and speaking of things episodic and largely depressing, let me bring you to tales of our end-of-season run in. Following two back-to-back away wins at Basingstoke and Dover, hopes turned once more to us repeating the end of last season; crash-bang-walloping our way back into play-off contention.

However, this was then followed up with two home games that saw us lose to Chelmsford and gather just a point when we played Dover for the second time in six days. These results took our enthusiasm and perforated it as though it were an extra-leaky tea-bag. In morale terms, there are Tetley granules all over the kitchen floor.

Those standing behind the goal here at Meadow Park may have discerned, faintly, a sound like a lowing cow in a distant milking shed, or someone squeaking out an unexpectedly long raspberry fart. To cut a long story short, this was the sound of the energy wheezing out of our season like air from a punctured balloon. With Boreham Wood lacking a following and the legs-out weather, this game was always going to feel a bit like a pre-season friendly and the action did nothing to persuade us that this wasn’t, in fact, the third week in July.

A good strong opening eight minutes by the Havant ‘Ville was topped, as is often the way of these things, by a goal for the opposition, Greg Morgan striking handsomely past Aaron Howe. After that, we sat through 80 minutes of neither team doing very much of note, only enlivened by a Muzzy Tiryaki header which sailed just over the crossbar, and a moment when Wood keeper Elvijs Putnins stepped behind his goal-line after catching the ball, although not enough to trouble the linesman.

So, now we find ourselves with six more games to play fighting, in the main now, to retain a place in the top ten. We are stationed ninth and the gap between ourselves and eighth place Woking runs to 13 points. There is a positive spin to be applied here, of course. When all is said and done we are presently at the acme of the ‘nothing left to play for’ league.

I said WE. ARE. TOP OF THE LEAGUE. WE ARE TOP OF THE LEAGUE.