As we dodged the waifs and strays of Totland, meandering to the ground on Saturday, it had the feeling of being an important day. A day that, come the end of April, we'd look back on this chilly December afternoon and think... "Fuck me we handed that tinpot pub team a mullering that day didn't we... top of the league and we stayed there all bloody season."
Football can be a cruel mistress sometimes. Well, a lot more then sometimes, it seems, when you're a Boro fan.
Barely thawed from the clinical ploughing of Peter's Field in midweek, it was back to fortress Cherrywood for the visit of 10th place Hanwell Town. Only point of reference we could find for them was that Boro icon "Ohhh" Pat Gavin (he of the "prince charming" themed chant) both started and finished his playing career there. Fascinating, I'm sure you'll agree.
Speaking of legendary frontmen, we were buoyed by the news on Saturday morning that cult oldtimer Jamie "AgeIsJustANumber Curo" Cureton would be back for at least one game. Clearly tired from being away, he just wanted back in... he loves it up the Boro does our Curo. The official club press release alluded to some sickness in the camp. The omission of Dennis "the Fire Engine" Oli suggested it was he who's arse was leaking like a faulty U bend.
So kick off.... wait for it.... wait for it.... WAIT FOR IT.... Ohhhhhhh F.F.S!!!!! Behind inside of 25 seconds. The majority of our team still clearly unable to tear their eyes away from the free chocolate advent calendars on display over by the club shop. Really putting the Tart in start. Our rear guard sleepier then one seventh of a dwarf septet.
But, if you're going to go behind, you've got plenty of time to penetrate yourself back into play if you do it in the first minute. So it was a relief that Boro woke up pretty immediately after that. Plenty of endeavour and commitment to ease the first minute woes. John "tiny dancer" Oyenuga looked to have the number of the Hanwell left back, so that seemed an obvious alleyway to pursue. That's exactly what did happen and, inside of 10 mins, a belligerent run from "tiny dancer" had a bit of Hanwell pingpong underway in the box. Curo followed one of the rebounds up and lashed home another ball bag bulge. What an absolute bloody legend. 1-1 and surely now the procession towards the league summit could once again commence!
Chances came and went in the remainder of the half. Jack "Mischa" Barton inches wide as he nearly nailed a cross shot like a roman soldier at a Crucifixion. Nic "Clintons" Ciardini sent Perry "The Hoffen" Coles through with a sumptuous 40 yard pass, but the hoffen spawned that particularly tasty little one on one, thrashing a half volley just the wrong side of the upright, much to his own absolute bewilderment. Josh "The Salmon" Huggins turned on his rocket boosters to motor through the Hanwell defence, crossing for Curo, who's effort smacked the woodwork like an angry CDT teacher.
Just as half time was peeking out from behind the cold snap, "tiny dancer" went on another soiree into the Hanwell defence and his cut back had them scattering like lemmings. Luckily, "the hoffen" was there to thrash home yet another rip snorter into Melvin's ballbag.
A HUGE sense of relief swirled around the San Cheerio and that, coupled with the news Royston Spuddy Chippers were a goal down, made the HT tea taste that little bit sweeter. We were on our way to the top of the league!!! HT 2-1
So I guess this is where it all goes a little bit 'Pete Tong'.
The second half started and we looked more slovenly than an eastern European adjective. The warning signs were there, clear as Day... sitting back, poor movement... and I'm not even talking about Spencer's HT dump.
Their left back ran completely unchallenged right through half the team, only being thwarted by "the Slayer's" upright, and that was the point a lot of bums started to squeak like an Alan Ball impersonation contest.
We had a couple of chances, Curo ploughing another "Tiny dancer" cut back wide and then after a big goal mouth scramble, Sam "Fogle" Pearce managed to screw the ball wider than John Candy's coffin.
But it was 10 mins of madness which ultimately cost Boro the 3 points. The equaliser was arguably some of the worst defending I have ever seen. It was sort of like a really tinpot Diego Maradona goal, except that the striker's drug of choice was Beechams and we had the "hands" of FOR GOD'S SAKE! They should have made it 3-2 but the striker ballooned it like a teenager with his first pack of condoms. That said, it was just a matter of time before the implosion was complete and a nothing route one ball was allowed to bounce just outside the box and yet again the challenges were weaker and more uneventful then a night on the fosters top.... their lad took it on and slotted it home with some plums.
To the bemusement of the PRE, the first Boro change was left so late, there was 1 fewer shopping days until Chrimbo when it finally came around. 5 minutes was all Femi "Dom" Orenuga was given to try and penetrate the visitor's defenses. In fairness to him he managed to get into a couple of good positions... Given a few minutes more he might have unlocked a point or more. The decision seemed even stranger as CJ "Pammy" Fearn had been limping for a good 10 mins prior. But what do we know!
It's not good, it's far from good in fact. Lessons have to be learned and very very quickly. Hanwell came with a game plan and stuck to it. Start fast, hit the gaps between our defense & midfield and give it more Amateur Dramatics then the R.S.C. (No. 5.... Cock womble).
To add ready salted to the wounds, Royston Potato Chips pulled another win out of their arses and are looking a quality outfit, on a seriously good run of form. They're going to take more stopping then an outbreak of athletes foot at a foot fetish swingers party.
The players know Saturday wasn't good enough. Kudos to those who held their hands up afterwards.
On to Saturday and we have to leave behind the static statues and move on to a polished game of charades, actions being louder then words. Come on lads, there's still time to get back on to the nice list. ONWARDS
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