Once again I must say I’m humbled by the fact you oddballs are still reading this blurb of mine, you’re all saints in my book, not that my book is a worthwhile accolade to possess. You’ve all clearly got too much time on your hands, maybe think about distributing it better. True story… you don’t get any of it back, once you’ve spent it all, it’s gone forever. Right that’s the morbid bit out the way.
So we turn our attention to the penultimate month of the calendar year where we’ll explore the bumpy journey thru firework territory as we hurtle towards the Christ Child’s birth build up. Strap in people, and enjoy.
Sometimes in sport, the stars just naturally align to create opportunity which when grasped, offers blissful poetic justice served to those who’ve acted in unsavoury and unethical ways much to the delight of the affected. We were reacquainted with our short serving ex manager as the Tudors of Hemel Hempstead strutted into town. Sitting pretty in P2 they rocked up with an expectant swagger about their sway, completely oblivious to what was about to unfold. Our Beachboys made short shrift of their exorbitant visitors, dispatching them by 3 goals to one with a well concocted and delicious mix of tenacity, ruthlessness, heart and fight all of which was distinctly unmatched. Approaching the final whistle, I couldn’t help but glance gleefully across to where he stood, cutting a forlorn figure the stranded brat stood in complete disbelief as to what he’d just witnessed. Stunning sight I might add.
Believe it fella, it happened and I’m afraid to say, unpleasant situations like this will continue to adhere your future unless you decide to treat people with respect and act with honour, honesty and integrity.
All that said though, it was a great shame we never got to present him with his bespoke muslin cloth we had made especially for the occasion as the juvenile delinquent boss failed to admit his class to dinner in what can only be assumed as a deliberate act of anticipated petulance. Hey-ho.
Turning my serious Smith head on for 2 seconds, I’d like to add that I don’t dislike the man regardless of his chequered past. Fact is he’s very capable of being a thoroughly decent human being, I have examples of such. What I do wish though is this, that he learns valuable lessons from his history and applies such knowledge to become a better person for it. We can usually all improve on ourselves if we’d take a hard look in the mirror once in a while. Veritas be told.
Next on the agenda was our opening exploits in the Essex Senior Cup. Plonked straight in at the deep end presumably due to our lofty Non-league pyramid status, we began our effort in the 3rd round playing host to defending champions East Thurrock United. Led excellently by one of the nicest and most genuine men in football, Gentleman John Coventry, our neighbouring Rocks proved a hard nut to crack but many mighty thanks to a inspired goalkeeping display, kudos Mr Haigh, and a tad of huff and puff, we edged progression with the slenderest of 1up victories. This threw us into the last 16 mix where the tombola spat out a favourable home tie vs Isthmian D1N outfit Great Wakering Rovers pencilled in for Dec3 in what I’d hazard a guess will be a Siberian styled night under the Aspect Arena night lights.
A lengthy trip to Twerton Park paid no dividends as the Romans of Bath City went about conquering their Concord counterparts on a damp squib of a day. Our travelling contingent unfortunately devoid of numbers left the uphill task slightly steeper for our soldiery, who bravely battled hard and kept the hosting party honest in earning their victory. 3-1 on the final whistle sent us packing with little to write home about with the exception of just one little thing (smiley face).
We don’t blatantly and brutally bubble on this dribble so we’ll describe him as chief executive administrative drudge and leave you to piece together the puzzle. Said Sir suffered a slight hiccup in a motorway service station eatery. Well when I say hiccup, I mean mahoosive meltdown and spectacular paddy proportionate to a teething toddlers temper tantrum when, pause for effect…
His hash browns were missing from his brekkie. Such was the disappointment in his demeanour effective that upon resolution saw the sweet waitress deployed to serve him throw the unpunctual manufactured vegetables to the table in sheer disgust. Brilliant, just brilliant.
Next in line stood the dangerous Dorking Wanderers. In what turned out to be a fiery and entertaining afternoon on the Thames Road turf, the two clubs came together with a bang, and as the dust settled the singular point was scribed onto their respective seasonal totals. Uno, dos, tres apiece in scintillating fashion for those spectators in sight.
Notable mention for Dorking dictator and poor man’s Tamplin, Marc White who impressively produced comment of the day when confronted by spewing the scary “you ain’t done your homework on me, mate” to the wrong individual which needless to say went down like a lead balloon. May I politely suggest that in the future he may wish to concentrate more on his backpedaling hairline rather than his lack of notorious reputation. Leading me perfectly onto the following.
As a side note we’ll explore the subject of anti ageing, something many a middle aged human conceals keen interest in. Close observers at recent outings will testify, our very own Danny Green has gone full Benjamin Button with his trot to Turkey procedure proving a great success. Chris Clark put it best by simply declaring “Hair looked superb today Danny!” via the twitterverse. I concur.
FA Trophy time was next thrust upon us clubs belonging at step 2. I think it’s fair to say we’ve not had the most romantic of relationships with this competition over the years. Duly handed statistically the joint 2nd hardest tie at this stage of the knockout proceedings, ‘standard’, which saw Slough Town schlepping round the m25 to meet us in a 3QR clash. A lively encounter considering the absence of goals meant a stalemate draw was hand-shook for and a replay it was to be to settle the score.
Now I’m going to go all lingual Mr Motivator on you guys and gals and throw in the following modern day adapted persistence quote by 1920’s US President Calvin Coolidge of which I believe is of wholehearted accuracy.
“Nothing in the world can take place of good old persistence.
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is practically a cliche.
Education will not; for the world is full of educated fools.
Persistence and determination alone are all powerful.”
I added this stimulating script due to the fact it rang dead true on a bitterly cold Tuesday evening under the lights at the impressive Arbour Park.
For our heroes, each and every one of them chose not to accept unfavourable circumstance, their persistence and determination turning the tide in our favour as we snatched a spectacular injury time winner #scenes (that was my millennial impression) as the scoreboard shot back 2-3 on FT.
A side note that has to be said. Gracious thanks to our wonderfully hospitable and humble hosts. Being brutally honest, rolls reversed, I’d struggle to see myself displaying such benevolent behaviour after that cruel conclusion. Life teaches you little lessons everyday if you pay attention.
As promised I’ll revisit our recent recruitment drive and cast my untrained eye over it. Who else would you trust?
We appear to have taken full advantage of our on the cusp of superstardom Cowley family connections with the welcome additions of Scott High and Kit Elliott arriving from Huddersfield Town coupled with local pro outlet, Southend United generously gifting us Tom Clifford.
Having taken stock of their abilities I have concluded that I have no doubt whatsoever in my mind that if these three young men work incredibly hard and dedicate their lives to the sport that they too could one day go on to become professional twitter trolls like the rest of us failed footballers who claim a phantom knee injury prevented us from fulfilling our premier league potential. I am of course joking for anyone reading this who happens to be as daft as I. They’ll all obviously enjoy bright futures in the game and it’ll be a pleasure to observe from a distance their progression and future successes and claim a stake in that limelight… via social media of course.
The swansong of November crept up on us in what felt like autumn or fall (for our American friends) gone in a flash. Reacquainted with old time foes, Wealdstone has always been a mouthwatering fixture and has dished out some memorable and forgettable occasions in times bygone.
On this occasion however it was one to forget and that’s exactly what we’ll do. 3-0 for those who must know. And as my Dad used to say to minor me, “Junior, I don’t want to hear anymore on the subject”.
Well there you have it ladies and gents, in the short sweet space of thirty days we’ve divulged all flavours of outcome for your beer and skittles. Together we’ve experienced cup success, league ticks, halves and crosses. These ups and downs and merry-go-rounds of the beautiful game are the lifeblood of this remarkable sport, for they are what keep us waking up today with the hunger to struggle and strive for a more positive tomorrow.
I’ll meet you all at year end for some more Beachboy related unpredictability.
Until then I’ll leave you with the words of Mr Leslie Chow,