Ches-ham had their chips

Well bugger me with a fish fork, cover me in eggs and flour and bake me for 90 minutes, that was a result and performance right out of a Delia Smith recipe book and we well and truly rose to the occasion. Let's be havin' ya!!

Whilst the seeds of a performance had been sewn against Walton Horizontals, a little re jig-a-jig-aaah of the team and formation with new signing Paul Hodges from Slough Town slotting in at the No.10 position with Le Git making way and Cards and Sam forming a central mid partnership. Rose was substituted on Saturday and was missing tonight, CJ slotting back in to CB after rumours he was going up be upfront tonight. Some new names on the bench but we mentioned them pre-match, a fullback from Woking and a Pompey youth team midfielder. 

If we're being charitable, let's say we were adjusting to a different formation and the missing team El Capitan, because we were as slow out the blocks as me at the 100 metres dash. The recognisable old tormentor Zak Joseph turning Pagèt this way and that and back again, smashing the crossstick and then being slipped in behind our high line and slipping it under Inferno without slipping over. 1-0 after just over 10. Bumholes. This could be a long night.

However, the opposite happened, not in that it went quickly, but that we didn't get spanked. We composed ourselves, took a few deep breaths, put our foot on the ball (for a little too long a couple of times in Sam's case) but we slowly turned the shrew. Reggie was doing all sorts of bits and jiggery pokery down the right, Rickey was stamping his authoritar all over the game and Hodge Podge was growing (maybe not physically but metaphorically). Then we got a freekick in prime Cards territory for another foul on the Youngster. No. 4 "Oh My Days" disagreed but he did for pretty much every foul so it was hard to take him seriously. Nic fancied it. Nic Johnny Wilkinson'd himself. Stomach in, couple of steps, boooooom, top bins, the crowd goes wild. Boootiful. We'd not created much but it twas the tonic we needed. The tonic of an equaliser to go with the gin of possession. Or some other metaphor about taking medicine or getting pissed. I dunno. 

The real turning point was when Fernandes took a tumble and got some treatment before trying to hobble it off but ultimately succumbing and lying down for a bit before gingerly walking off and a ginger replaced him, Reece Miller; Gooooal! Will he score a goal? SCORE A GOAL! Reece Miller (imagine that sung by Freddie Mercury).

With a proper actual striker, real not false 9 up top, we had a focal point. The fluidity of the three behind remained but there was someone holding it up and bringing them into play. Who knew hey?!? Round pegs go in round holes. 

From them on we were in complete control, with the occasional ocassion for CJ to chuck his whole being in front of a shot, but in the main, he and Seth had this sewn up. 

Louie Pagét tucked Joseph into his pocket and then played him at his own game by leaving their left side for dust on several occasions. Tiny Dancer was equally as offensive on their right, rumours were abound that he called their right back a "useless cunt" but were unconfirmed going to press. 

Half time was an unwanted interuption and broke our momentum as Chesham enjoyed possession in the early stages of the second half but we soon found the rhythm again and it was going to get them (Chesham). 

It didn't take long for the lead to be taken and never relinquished. Some lovely passing and moving; cos it's the Farnborough Groove (a genuine CD complication available in the 1990's) ended up at Reeces doing pieces and volleying goalward which was tipped round the upright stick by their ball bag protector. The current fashion for short corners was ignored and Rickey Holmes, under the hammer, dropped a beauty of a cross onto Seth's bonce and he plopped it into the onion bag. 1-2. 

Naturally, Cheese'n'ham had to start taking more risks and went more attacking and for a split second it looked like we'd try and sit back and defend the slender lead. Fortunately, we have some wiley old dogs that have played League football very recently and the midfield was marshalled superbly by Sam and Nic to the extent they never really looked threatening and when they did, CJ and Seth were brick walls. There only looked like one team that would win and after Rickey drilled narrowly over and Louie hit the outside of the post via the keepers fingertips, we made it safe.

 

The only short corner of the game resulted in a trip on Reggie or Tom, and the ref pointed to the spot. The Chesham Twitter said it was soft, very soft, and yet not a voice in dissent could be heard, not even from No. 4. Oh my days. Up stepped penalty taker extraordinaire, our French fullback going all Lizarazu and finding just inside the post with his plumbs, ballbag protector sent for a Burton. 1-3. Game Over. 

Chesham made a half hearted attempt at getting back into it but we were as safe as the huge, walled Buckinghamshire houses we just drove past on our scenic route to the ground. 

It all clickerty clicked very quickly but when you get some quality talent from higher up the football ladder, that's more likely than not. That tiny budget is being stretched to the absolute limit of that magic back of the sofa, but lets enjoy it whilst it lasts. 

Make no bones about it, as Bakes at Slough put it, paraphrasing, we're looking like we want to be doing something this season and clubs are going to look at the standard of player coming in and scoff at our meagre finances claims. We're saying nothing, but we're going to have to have something to show for it this season. At the very least, we'll need to be competing up there at the top end of the table. Not least if we want to keep the Holmes and Deerings et al. 

But let's be honest, it's exciting, we look like a good football team. The first sets of fixtures for the season has been the weirdest mixed bag with Hendon (our next home opponents) winning 4-0 at Truro on Saturday, then losing 6-2 at home to Hayes and Yeading. Walton even beat Gosport. A topsy turvy start. 

Maybe this'll be our best chance yet to challenge for promotion. Baby steps though, hey chaps. 

We won't be at Poole, previous engagements taking priority, but see you at Hendon and Swindon Maureens. 

As always, COME ON YOU YELLOWS!!! 

Friendly encounters, Casual meets. Phwoar.

Hello everyone! We hope this pandemic of prose finds you well and that you've managed to navigate a route through the temporary threat of the end of human civilization. A pandemic killing millions across the globe, climate change making the world look more and more like Aldershot town centre... it's truly end of days stuff. One thing that we can all rely on however, even as hell freezes over, is that Spencer Herman Isaac (né Trethewy) Day will be leading Farnborough into yet another season of football manager. 

With England's escapades at the Euros now little more than a hazy memory over the horizon, it's been a  fascinating (?!) 6 or so weeks of pre season jiggery pokery both on and off the pitch including a rumour mill purring at full velocity after its well rested period of hibernation. 

Here's a quick catch up on the friendly shiz.... scroll down to the corned beef, if that's not your beef. The friendlies I mean, not the corned beef.

First it was a balmy June evening at the Spelly where we got our first look at Cards back in a 'Boro shirt, Dicky Orlu back in a 'Boro shirt & Harry the Cooksley Monster back in a 'Boro shirt. To clarify, all our players were wearing Boro shirts, but you know what I mean. We even had two number 10's, one of which would turn out to be almost new signing Jordan "the shithouse" Rose wearing the captain's armband. New marquee signing Adam Coombes took his place up top. Fernandes, Louie "microchips" Paget, Tom Le Git, Seth, the kid Butler and the mysterious "Big Mo" in goal made up the numbers. Standard PSF affair, Nic got us off to a flier, 2 up at HT. Team of trialists 2nd half, nowt added. 2-0 FT

On to Staines where Ceej was back doing bits in a back 3. Coombes was absent, so we were treated to an increase in trialist based action up front. After the euphoria of scoring at Spelly, Cards had been blinded by his own brilliance so contrived to put as many balls not goal bound as he could. Dickie Orlu did his hammy, which was a pisser as his partnership with the shithouse was blooming nicely. "microchips" Paget smashed home a spotkick after some great work from the returning Jon "tiny dancer" Oyenuga. The win was nabbed off our toes though as superfan Aaron "the slayer" Bufton was left more exposed than a tipsy flasher by our entire defence forfeiting defensive duties at a corner. 1-1 FT. 

Next road trip was a Fleeting sunny afternoon down at CowThorpe Park as we were still trying to emotionally process Beachy being announced at the Met Pol. Back to a back 4 with Ceej pulling the strings as Fernandes went on a mental, scaring the bejesus out of their full back and helping himself to a couple of ripsnorters. Could well have been 5 or 6 at the break, wholesale changes ensued and a much less exciting 2nd half yielded no more bulgers, the slayer got his half clean sheet though. 2-0 FT. 

England went out, the Fixtures came out. Reggie was back! Jordan was announced (turns out he's Gareth Bale's mate, who knew?!) The shits were self isolating themselves to ensure they were granted access into the capital of Rushmoor.

Nic belted in a sodding screamer (he bloody loves scoring against them), Seth and Ceej took centre stage in a back 4 but we were overrun in the heat and we trailed 1-3 at the break. Felt like a long afternoon was in store as the (now fixed and working) new scoreboard ticked to 1-4. With the Cooksley monster into the action at the break though, things started to change and he banged in a flippin' worldie to open things up. Fernandes chipped in before a soft pen and defensive switch off seemingly put it to bed, again, at a bizarre 3-6. We slipstreamed into another gear again though and Elijah the trialist finally got his goal and that man the Cooksley monster gobbled up one of his skippy bollocks penalties. Two pinball corners almost pulled it back to 6-6 before yet another soft pen allowed the scum to sign it off at 5-7. Absolutely ludicrous game of football. 

With that, Jeff Bezos blasted him and an old bird into space in a giant cock. Next marquee signing announced, Sam bloody Deering. (This shit is getting serious!) Southern League site also confirmed Andrew Beardy Blake was back (no) and that we'd registered DQ Copeland (seemingly no) and Elijah (registered but not good enough to make the club site squad list update!)

Slough were next into the mix. Deering started with Cooksley rightly back into the starting lineup. Jordan was back for more shithousing, but rumours of more pings and knocks than a 70s amusement arcade left numbers dwindling. A much tighter affair, not that you can get much less tight than a 5-7, with Slough getting a lead through an outrageous pen give early in the 2nd half. We kept at it though, matching the visitors and were rewarded with a goal from the latest forward trialist, ably assisted by the boy Fernandes. FT 1-1

The horse dancing and taekwondo were in full swing to no spectators, at the olympics, so we headed across to Cobham to catch the penultimate away instalment. Coombes still hadn't got anywhere near scoring and it was yet another different defensive combo as Spencer had to tinker. An absolute stinker of a first half as the Cobhamites played up in their cup final. Still not sure why they were all so angry. The ref was about 80 and had the smallest heat map ever witnessed on a football field. Proper funny stuff though. Bit better second half, hard not to be, and 2 trialist goals would be the icing on a very average cake. We did get a classic Spencer interview post match though. Aside from the standard fare of everyone's rich, we're poor etc.,  Apparently "we don't use lots of players, that was 4 years ago" and the aim is "to be better than last season". Truly Churchill-esque stuff.

Maidenhead at home! Rumours Coombes had already jumped ship. A lovely rabona goal from a trialist had us up at the break. Thankfully, yet again, no signs of the kamikaze defending from the shits game. Played pretty well and more than matched them. Robbed of a win by a late goal from a very handy little sub they brought on. Think this was the time we'd worked out our young trialist keeper was Dante Baptiste from Watford. Looked very very useful!!  

Final homer! Woking! No Deering, rumours he'd gone on a holiday, taking over duties from young Connor Cullen, who was indeed rumoured to be on holiday. That's fine though, all other teams had players on holiday a week and a bit before the season, right?! Really even first half, albeit we rode our luck with a spanking 1 yard miss from one of their strikers. We saw out the 45 minutes.... only to be undone in injury time. Sickener. Fear not though, our best half of football would follow as a spanking equaliser from the frankly ecstatic Young Reggie would set the game up. The sides exchanged blows up until the death, when tiny dancer meandered forward and belted one from 25 yards, massive deflection, soars into the opposite side from the stranded ballbag man. 2-1! Chapeau!

Dante was announced, Messi departed the Spanish Basket case region superleaguers. Unrelated, so far as we know.

Final PSF! Chertsey away! (well done if you've stayed with this!) They had the consistently useless topknot on their books. Yet another defensive combo for us as Ceej took up left back duties in tiny dancer's absence. Seth seemingly now given the nod, with the Shithouse, for the CB starter roles. Deering still on his alleged sunbed, Elijah still toiling away as the target man. Basically, to summarise, we were awful. Passing was shocking and we did as much wrong as we could. Bizarrely, Ceej started the second half up front, even though we had Joe the scoring trialist on the bench. He'd come on later in the half but play out on the wing. Don't remember their keeper (Big Mo!) having to make a save. Fernandes was marked out the game. They nicked one. Not even the "lovely jubblies" tea bar or the pound a pint mobile beer seller could salvage the afternoon. "That was fucking embarrassing" shouted Jordan. Spot on son.

So that was it. Friendlies done, side settled. Was it? Not on your life. Following day, our overlord drops a Non-League rag interview informing us of another "high profile" signing due within 48 hours. "Be better than last season" has been upgraded to "be competitive" and we've also "pushed the boat out" a bit this year... let's just hope we've invested in life jackets just incase. Aside from that though, just your standard doom and pessimistic gloom sponsored by covid and budgets etc.

Only took 1 day for things to leak though. A Southend United indy account, on twitter, throwing out rumours that Ricky "the Trickster" Holmes was on Spencer's radar. Yes, a league 2 player from last year. Thus followed a mad few days of Phil Brown, their manager, proclaiming Ricky was the messiah and that the chairman was a wee wazuk if he let him leave. Twitter is an amazing place though, we're paying him a grand a week don't you know! This rumbled on all week. Don't worry, Spencer will give us an update before the big official kick off on Saturday though, won't he?? About as much chance as our owner dipping his toes into the preserved meat market. Don't you dare question the regime!!

SOOOOOO Saturday August 14th rolled round and competitive football was finally back on the table, real points and everything. On paper, the fixtures lottery had been relatively kind to us on opening day, handing us a visit from our local-ish adversaries the Walton Casuals... contrasted with Hartley heading off into Wales and Hendon heading down to almost Truro, we'd got off lightly. We waited, breath more baited than Gazza's fishing rod, for the team news to drop, still with mild confusion at how the hell Ricky Holmes might be turning out for our beloved yellow peril. Rumours banded around included him 1) Not playing this week , 2) Backing out and being back at Southend, 3) Signing up for Strictly, 4) Retiring and taking oath as a monk, 5) Being arrested for peeping through windows and 6) Falling into a well where Sam Deering's arms were too small to reach him so he'd have to miss the game too whilst searching for a bucket big enough to pass down sufficient hair products to get them through the night. Thankfully, after his name appeared on the southern league registrations page, we knew he was definitely in. Official club announcement soon followed, although the "more to follow later" got a few people over confused. One particularly aggrieved Southend fan announced he was off to get his knackers tattooed in a demonstration of protest. Whatever gets you through the day. Still, enough of them by the seaside, languishing with the reality of having to visit Aldershot and Woking this season, Ricky Holmes was a Boro-ite! Bravo Spencer, you're sure working out how to stretch that zero budget this season! 

The team news dropped and it was a veritable smorgasbord of attacking delicacies on display. "Microchips" Paget and "tiny dancer" took their places at full back having arguably been the 2 stand outs in pre season. As expected, "shithouse" Rose and Seth would complete the backline with Le git somehow forcing his way into the starting 11 just in front of them. Cards and "the hairy mascot" Deering would pull the strings in the centre and Reggie and Ricky (sounds like they'd star in a panto) would wing it, Fernandes shoehorned into an unfamiliar up top role. Reece "Grinder" Miller was back on loan, from the shits, on the bench, but all other strikers were culled from existence. A preseason campaign well used then. Not sure what Cooksley had done to upset the Fuehrer, expect he was late to training or critical of his new chorister training top or something, who knows. He was benched, along with Ceej.

So after losing the toss off, we had to settle for shooting towards the PRE first half (triggered). The Casuals had Fitz with them pulling the strings, he was his usual lively self (yes, he has hair like Grealish, well done everyone.) The first half was a very very tentative, opening day, touchy feely sort of affair. We were looking to feed Reggie and Ricky as much as possible, Ricky looking particularly direct, no doubt buoyed by the buzz of the ravenous faithful whenever the ball landed at his feet. The half really struggled to slipstream into hyperdrive mode though. Multiple stoppages, Walton based outrage and the referee delivering TED talks for each decision become the theme for the first half hour as we toiled away in the newly arrived summer sun. Fernandes got in first, drilling straight down the keepers gullet from a tight angle. It was the boy Holmes who made the incisive motion to set up the first of a couple of quickfire chances next, pulling the defence apart before laying off to tiny dancer who cut in and unleashed a curler towards the far corner, the keeper turning full Gadirova to turn it away. Just a minute later and the ballbag lad would twin up his tribute as Reggie cut in from the opposite side, same effort, same result. Plenty more huffing and puffing ensued as neither side could quite catapult themselves into the stratosphere of pen box pioneers. Reggie laying one off to The trickster, being his first opportunity to notch, but the keeper yet again finding the correct hand job to keep the scores at zero. Danté didn't have much to do, but was ambling around patrolling the outer edges of his box with the coolness and composure of a box of frozen cucumbers. Maybe life after Liam won't be so scary. HT 0-0, Beer!

After perusing the scores around the grounds and wondering how Hartley had scored in 15 seconds at Merthyr and Truro had decided not to turn up at their new squat, we ambled back out to take in what would no doubt end up the best half of football we'd seen all season.

No changes yet and we continued to try and play our game, albeit things were still feeling somewhat "opening day", understandably. Ricky was plugging away, still nothing was sparking us into top gear though, Fernandes struggling to fit into the game up top as he didn't have any full backs to get pick pocketed by and then go and kick them up in the air. The game turned on its axis with about 20 to go. The culmination of the sides exchanging cautions came as one of the Casuals was given his marching orders for his second misdemeanor. Man up! 20 to go, GAAAAMMBLLLLLLE!!! The Grinder was thrown on up top to try and force the matter.

Pagét, looking thoroughly accomplished down the right, had seen enough though and, meandering forward, decided it was time for the full backs to "get this net bulger stuff sorted", hurling a ball beautifully in from the touchline, tiny dancer stealing in behind the defender at the back post and delivering a well struck point blank header which somehow the keeper managed to keep out. Unbelievable. Was really starting to feel like one of those days.

Ceej replaced the walking wounded Jordan and was swiftly followed by the Cooksley monster, replacing Deering shortly after. Couple of minutes later and he was right in the thick of the action, barrelling a path into the area before attempting to lay off to the grinder whilst seeming to collapse under a challenge. Defender half cleared, tiny dancer worked it back to Reggie who fake reversed it into the path of the Grinder. A shimmy, a shake, left the defender for dead and he slotted it past the keeper.... YESSSSSS... oh, wait... NOOOOOO... he'd somehow put it wide. FML. It was DEFINITELY going to be one of those days. To add salt into the wound, Cooksley had to limp off with a knee injury, levelling things back up at 10 v 10. 

Couple of mins left and the favour was duly returned, one of theirs limping off as it seemed we were heading for last man standing. Going down to 9 spurred the visitors into one last attack resulting in an effort, top corner bound, that Danté had to be at his best to keep out. BLIMEY, new pants all round.

That was enough for the man in the middle. Spoils shared, 0-0.

Definitely 2 points dropped against a side unfancied and seemingly lacking in a real cutting edge, but ho hum what can you do. There do seem to be a number of questions in regards to how the side will settle. Can you really accomodate Reggie, the Trickster and Fernandes in the same 11? When will Orlu be fit? Is Le Git the right man to marshal the midfield? Do we miss Nic on the wing or is that just bloody minded nostalgia? Are we really saying Ceej is the 4th choice CB? Is he going to get another shot playing up top?! Will we sign another striker trusted enough to have his name added to the club site squad list? When will Fernandes get sent off? What's on Deering and The Trickster's playlist when they're commuting? Will Roger get his testimonial? Will pasties ever be available at the tea bar, like it says on the sign? 

Well, maybe we'll find out more on Tuesday as we head to Chesham's Meadow, the playground of Taskmaster. Did they ever fix the roof on the bogs? Is the metal boneshaker stand still standing? Will Chesham be any good? Who knows! But we'll be there! One thing's for sure. Their budget is huge, ours is tiny.

It's good to be back isn't it.

#UpTheF***ingBoro