Trophy Hen-Don & Dusted


Att: 287

HENDON – 2  [Haule 44. Pickett 90]

SUTTON UNITED – 1 [Honey 90]

Sutton carried on a great recent tradition on Saturday, crashing out of an FA competition without so much as a whimper at fellow Ryman Premier side Hendon.

Joining such great defeats such as Dorchester, Weymouth and Trowbridge from seasons past. The one teeny weeny consolation being Hendon were at least from the same division as us this time round.

Yeah, thanks lads. We really love travelling from one side of London to the other to watch a bunch of clueless, gutless, spinless, useless shower of shite frankly just give up without so much as a fight. Last season we’ll let go, as we at least had the comfort of a fucking good piss up in Weymouth to comfort us. This year? A miserable trip back on the Thameslink.

Like I said. Thanks lads.

Next year, just don’t fucking bother entering and save us stupid bastards the hassle OK? Lets stick to the Surrey Senior Cup. That seems to be about our limit right now.

Not for the first (and most definately NOT the last) time another abortion of a line up did absolutely NOTHING in the way of attacking OR defending and doomed Sutton United to their second season of total boredom. JR admitted during the week at the Q & A session that the team was playing poorly and that he had no idea what to do about turning things around. Here’s a revolutionary idea for you. I’m sorry? Did we hear you right sir?

YOU’RE the sodding manager! If you don’t know, get lost and let someone else who at least HAS some kind of imagination have a go. Jesus Christ, my nans got more arsehole.

Muggins starts the day at East Croydon station by demanding from 2 clearly frightened Grimsby Town players innocently buying newspapers that they win against Wimbledon so as not to upset the missus (Anything for harmony in the Taz household). Then the train is late. It’s going to be a shit day!

Sweeping changes were made to the line up that demolished managerless and bottom team Heybridge on Saturday with Arkwright and Haworth getting dropped to the bench. Eh? Hang on?? One of our better players and a bloke who has been ever so slightly disappointing to say the least? I give up. No I really do! Dave Timothy is back and boy does he look fit!!! Well actually, he doesn’t. His right leg has been so heavily bandaged up, he could audition for the next ‘Mummy’ film. When he runs he looks ok, but when he’s doesn’t, he’s limping rather heavily. So we’re not desperate then??

Hendon start proceedings by tearing the crap out our alleged defence and Martini has to be alert from the first moments, making 3 excellent saves within the first 10 minutes. With our rear-guard going walkies on the left hand side, he first stands up well to a blistering drive, then gets down well at the foot of his near post to palm an effort away and finally parries an effort across his goal.

Sadly Sutton manage precisely shag all in the way of a response, except aimless lumps forward to the less than solid Matt Fowler and slightly height restricted Eddie Akuamouah. He’s 5 foot fucking 6 for christs sake!!!  It doesn’t work, it never has worked and never will work. STOP IT!!

Tons more drivel arrives and quite frankly 30 minutes of crap follows. We have a 50-50 shout for a penalty turned down when Boothe is apparently shoved in the box. Hendon meanwhile push forwards with minimal resistance. The U’s one and only effort ‘on target’ in the first 45 minutes comes from an overhit Ryan Palmer cross that the ‘keeper has to tip over more out of a case of being safe rather than any serious danger.

Then right on half time (Oh what a shocker!) a swift movement of the bal on the edge of the Sutton box picks out Haule on the left (see, we just DON’T learn!) and he shoots beyond Martini into the far bottom corner. It’s not like it’s the fourth time they’ve done that this half is it boys??

Half time and we move to the bar for some results. Whilst Bob hangs about outside taking a phone call, Chalmers and I check out the TV. A grumpy old git behind us loudly states “How would you fucking like it if I came into your living room and stood in front of your telly??” Several people including myself and Chalmers turn and look towards him. “Well you ain’t at home and this ain’t your fucking telly” I inform him before walking towards the exit.

“I was only joking” Mr grumpy arsehole calls out after me. “That’s strange…..” says I turning back. “… ‘cos I’m not fucking laughing.”

And thus ends our visit to the bar.

The second half is as crap and depressing as the first. Only poor finishing on the part of our hosts keeps us remotely in touch with proceedings. The best of the bunch is Martini tipping away a long range drive by Bubb (I think!). He also acrobatically picks a far corner bound header out of the air.

Suttons best efforts amount to a midly exciting run by Akuamouah into the Hendon box at the end of which his final pass evades Fowler and a quick ball forwards picked up by Akuamouah again and once more his pass evades the trailing Fowler.

Haworth finally appears for the last 20 minutes and proceeds to put more into his performance than the rest of the team put together, but it’s all for nothing as the U’s singularly fail to create any kind of threat on the home goal.

We start to trot round towards the exit as we go into injury time and Hendon finally decide to kill off our less than impressive challenge. A ball forwards picks out Pickett in acres of space. Martini starts to come, stops, then completely slices Picketts overhit first touch. Next he tries to rugby tackle the Hendon forward, but thankfully fails, avoiding a certain red card and Pickett rolls the ball into the empty net.

Moments later, Sutton win a free kick out on the right. The ball is swung in and deflected to the far post. Paul Honey gathers, composes himself and curls his shot through a crowded penalty area  and inside the far post. 2-1 but far far too little, way too late.

And so our FA Trophy interest ends for another season. In fact dumped out of both within 14 days without so much as putting up ANY kind of fight.

Losing is one thing, doing absolutely fuck all in the way of providing some sort of opposition and losing is another.

And Grimsby? They lost 2-1 as well. Those bastards. I dunno, ask some people for a favour and they go and let you down. And all I asked was that they not lose! Twats.

After todays little funfest, I dread to think what a free-scoring, organised team will do to us. Eh? Oh yeah, Canvey at home on Tuesday. Can’t wait. With any luck we’ll finish third in that particular contest.

MAN OF THE MATCH – Chuck Martini. Several good stops and besides, no one else did sod all.

ENTERTAINMENT – 0. Zip. Nada. Notasausage. All in all, a big ol’ bag of shite………….

TEAM – Martini, Brooker, Boothe, Mison, Berry, J Palmer, R Palmer, Honey, Timothy, Akuamouah, Fowler SUBS : Haworth, Dunn, Murray, Arkwright

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