Two Big Twats


Att: 902

KINGSTONIAN – 2   [Sills 7.19]

SUTTON UNITED – 1   [Bolt 25]

With the U’s now firmly into one of their little ‘slumps’ (one win in the last 6) we’ve come to expect these days and our hopes of silverware now whittled down to just the Surrey Cup, a return to winning ways against our old friends by the Thames would be a welcome boost. Sadly, our sporting nature once again got in the way and we found ourselves again facing an early 2 goal defecit to make up. Not good, not good at all.

I find myself in the Kings Tun just after 12 and join Bob for a starter pint. Gareth shows up shortly after, another heavy Friday night on the tiles delaying his arrival it seems. Just quite how heavy a night it was is revealed when he lets slip he’s put a fiver on Farnboro to beat Arsenal today! Christ! Just what exactly was he drinking? And more to the point, where can I get some?? Chalmers is once again working and will have to dash straight to the game.

We warm up with a couple of beers before heading for the Newt & Ferret closer to the ground. It’s occupied by members of K’s ‘Table 1’ mob. Another couple of pints and some cheeky banter later (including the ‘outing’ of 1 K’s fan as a U’s sympathiser, an offence for which I expect to see him swinging from a lamp post for in the vacinity shortly) and we stroll off to Kingsmeadow for the red hot Ryman League ‘action’ that awaits us.

Yeah, riiiiiiiiiight.

The U’s side is a bit understrength today with Scott Corbett still not 100% but parking on the bench to make up numbers, Pape is still out and Matt Gray is of course suspended. Eddie Akuamouah gets a rare start. But somewhere on the left rather than up front as we’d expect. Hmmm. Once underway, as with most recent matches, the U’s take a while to get going. And some.

First, Ronnie Green, recently on loan with the Bobbins (boo! Hiss!) makes a good attacking run, that looks threatening, but produces little. No matter, because within 5 minutes, the second K’s attack of the day brings another early goal in the against column, one that is once more conceded with painful ease.

A rather silly free-kick is conceded out on the left. It’s lofted into the box, towards Ribolla’s back post. Now whether Jamie loses sight of the ball in the sun, I’m not sure. But the fact that he fails to come and collect or at least challenge for a simple looking ball isn’t quite as disappointing as the frankly fucking non-existant marking in front of him. Tim Sills nipping completely unchecked to nod the ball beyond our keeper and into the far corner. Crap all round really.

Despite this early boost, the home side fail to do anything significantly threatening other than that. Well not until the 19th minute that is when a corner is conceded, again out on the left. A low ball to the edge of the 18 yard box again finds Mr Sills poorly marked. His side foot effort finding it’s way through a crowded box and into the far corner with Ribolla rooted to the spot.

The young ‘keeper looks bewildered and raises his hand to shield his eyes. Either he’s being blinded by the bright sunshine from over our shoulders at the far end or he’s trying to make out where exactly his defence has buggered off to this afternoon.

Seriously though, why was Jamie left without a hat for the entire first half with the sun beaming right into his face? Ok, so he’s the ‘keeper and should know, but for our bench not to seemingly twig and remedy the situation is a bit poor. Christ, if I’d had a bloody cap, I’d have run round the ground and given it to him.

As usual, the second goal has the effect of bringing home to the U’s players the stark reality of whats actually happening. “What? The game’s STARTED??? You’re kidding!!!”

If anyone wants me, I’ll be over here in the corner banging my head against that brick wall.

More frustratingly, from that moment on, we start to actually play and the home side have little further action up the far end. Our first opening comes from a good cross from the left that Watson just fails to make contact with at the back post after 23 minutes.

2 minutes later and we’re back in the match. Watson is rather clumsily bundled over towards the right hand corner of the 18 yard box. Right, c’mon DB, do your stuff!

Bolty takes Baileys short lay off and drills a low shot towards the far corner. Lance Key in the K’s goal gets down to it, but appears to misjudge the pace of the shot and the ball squirms under his hands and creeps inside the post. 2-1 and we’re right back in it. COME ON!!!

It’s now all Sutton, with Amber shirts piling forwards for the equaliser. Bolty is involved again just before the half hour, exchanging passes with Watson, which sends the big striker into the box. But Key manages to close down the angle and makes an important block. 2 minutes later, Bolt puts a free-kick into the box that’s just cut out by a defender. It drops to the lurking Bailey around 20 yards out, but his thumping volley flashes just wide of the post.

Sutton keep pressing and Watson is proving a real handful for the K’s defence. With 35 minutes gone, the K’s No5 and captain Barnsby shows just how much of a handful he’s been. Watso takes the ball into feet and turns the big defender. Barnsby just simply drags him to the ground, then proceeds to prevent him from getting up before topping it all off by stomping all over the Sutton Number 10. Of course, Mark is not best pleased with being used as a doormat and has a pop back. Cue an ugly melee involving at least several players from each side. Barnsby is extracted from the ruck by one of his own players, but still lashing out at anything within reach.

Surely, he’s got to go you say? Ah ha! Yes, normally you would expect so, but of course this is Rymanworld. Where the match officials are less than throrough when it comes to applying the laws of ASsociation Football. So of course, with both the ref AND the linesman no more than 10 yards from the ‘event’ Barnsby escapes with just a yellow card, with Watson also booked for his trouble.

I think I need that brick wall again.

To make matters even worse (if possible), Bolt places our free-kick awarded for Barnsby’s original Twickenham style challenge. But the k’s wall is no more that 5, 6 yards away at best. The ref just wanders off. A bit miffed, Bolty calls out to get the refs attention and to demonstrate his problem, paces out the distance between the ball and the wall.

Result? A fucking yellow card for Bolty for dissent! And to really add insult to injury. The fucking dickhead then measures out the correct 10 yards for the wall! All I can say is, thank christ we don’t have easy, legal access to high powered firearms in this country. ‘Cos where the Yanks go ‘Postal’ we Brits would probably be going ‘Match Official’. If you catch my drift.

After all this old bollocks, Bolty eventually steps up and lashes his effort just wide of the far post.

Sutton keep pressing, but before half time, Mr Twathead the ref brandishes two more yellows as the match starts to get a little bit tasty, no doubt thanks to the bad blood caused by Barnsby’s fuckery earlier, with Beale then K’s scorer Sills both going in the book for silly challenges.

So, slightly narked not to have a man advantage, but still fairly confident of pulling the game around, we head to the bar for some half-times and a livener. Refreshed, we’re soon back out again, with the only noteable result being that Gareth is 45 minutes away from being 5 quid poorer.

Christ, any more bets like that mate and we’ll start thinking you and Chalmers are swopping tips.

The U’s start the half as they left off in the previos 45, with Danny Bolt playing a fantastic angled ball from left to right, straight onto the chest of Watson. But the U’s striker hesitates, rather than try and run at the isolated K’s No3 in front of him and the opening is gone.

The home side find a bit more rythm this half and finally manage a 3rd attack of the match just after the hour. A cross from the left results in a shot that is slightly deflected, but claimed by Ribolla. Soon after, Sills is denied his hat-trick when a clever Wingfield flick finds the big striker. but his rising first time shot is well held by the young Sutton ‘keeper.

The U’s then go oh so close to claiming an equaliser, with Bolt finding his way to the byeline, he hangs a perfect cross to the back post. But with Watson only needing the slightest touch, the K’s No3 makes an unbelievable clearance from right under his own bar. Bastard!

Paul Honey sends in a low 18 yard drive that Key gets down to save at the near post, before the tension of the first half finally resurfaces. A long ball into the U’s half sees Sills rather clumsily challenge Beale for a header, crashing into the Sutton defender with arms flailing and getting nowhere near the ball. Of course, the Sutton man is not happy with the challenge and lets Sills know. With the ref having already blown and seemingly about to give the big twat his marching orders, he then tries to stick the nut on the Sutton man.

Luckily, no contact is made but the second caution is shownv (what for? Take your pick!), swiftly followed by the red. And the K’s goalscorer trudges off, reacting childishly to the Sutton fans chants of “Cheerio cheerio” with a petulant kick at the gate by the tunnel and a series of naughty hand gestures in our direction before being sensibly hauled off down the tunnel by a steward.

What a cock end.

With the man advantage, Sutton press for the equaliser and with 10 minutes remaining, have another good chance denied. Again Bolt gets to the byeline on the left and once more hangs up one of those evil crosses. With Key nowhere, Nick Bailey waits at the back post. He nods the ball goalwards only for a red & white clad arm to shoot out and knock the ball away. Penalty!

Er, well no actually. The ref decides that it’s actually a free-kick to the home side. For god only knows what. In fact, scrub that, I bet even god himself, if he does indeed exist,  probably was wondering along the lines of “What the fuck was that for ref?”.

K’s 10 men are soon whittled down even further in the 83rd minute. With their man being booked for a preposterous amount of time wasting at a corner, he finally swings the ball in, with Ribolla claiming it towards the edge of his 6 yard box.

Then just as the young ‘keeper is about to celebrate his 40th birthday, big twat mk2 in the shape of the already booked Barnsby arrives, crashing into and flattening poor ol’ Jamie.

Quite how this fucking idiot (remember, this guy’s meant to be the skipper) has the bare faced front to even argue about the yellow card he’s promptly shown is pathetic. It’s not as if he was even in the same sodding postal code when Ribolla made the catch. Thankfully, Mr Barnsby at least displays a bit more decorum on his way to the tunnel and refrains from acting like a 4 year old. Unlike Sills before him.

Sutton now 2 men up but still a goal down throw on Scott Corbett to try and push a bit more for the equaliser. But despite the addition of a further midfielder, Sutton fail to make any headway in the middle of the park and the match fizzles out, with only Bailey’s last minute cross being nodded a yard wide by the previously quiet Matt Fowler.

So, despite the numerical advantage, K’s get their first home win over Sutton since something like 46BC. Arse! Annoyed by the defeat and the manner of it, we’re all hungry as well as eager to get some serious drinking done, we head out onto Kingston Road. It’s just here that weird event number one of the evening occurs.

A gentleman in a red jacket and black wooly hat approaches. “Are you Taz??” he asks in a broad Aussie accent. “Er, yeah!” I reply. And before I can add “….and I’ve never met your daughter!” he shakes my hand and introduces himself. Sadly, I’m a little stunned and don’t catch his name (If you’re reading this mate, I’m really sorry! But I’m not used to complete strangers who live on the other side of the world coming up to me in the street after a game and telling me they like the site!), but I do catch that he’s from Queensland Australia and on a brief visit to the UK. Oh and that he “loves the site and reads it all the time”. Christ! What next? Autographs?

Who said Aussies were uncultured? I’d just like to know how the hell he knew who I was. Clearly we have a mole somewhere. No one likes a grass remember!

Still a bit surprised, we hit Fat Boys chippy and head back to the Newt and Ferret for some commiseratory beers. We’re soon joined by Cath and a couple of K’s fans and a short pub crawl begins. It’s in the ‘Cricketers’ pub that weird events 2 and 3 occur.

Having sat down with a pint, ex-defender and top all round chap Mark Costello’s sister wanders up and says hello! Bloody hell. It’s all go tonight! But whats REALLY strange is the fact her bloke plays footy for the pub’s team on a Saturday and that team’s striker is none other than one Dominic Feltham! AND it turns out they’d actually been playing on the park opposite that morning when we’d walked past heading to the Newt the first time. Oh to be so close to a Sutton legend and not know it!

Christ. This is all too strange for me. Must drink more beer.

And so we do. Although it all gets a little fuzzy a couple of hours later when we’re handed free Vodka jellies in the Hogshead.

Can’t think why.

MAN OF THE MATCH :  Nick Bailey. Sorry, bit predictable I know, but he was everywhere again.

ENTERTAINMENT : 7. Despite the defeat we played ok and Sills red card WAS funny!

TEAM : Ribolla, Beale, Hollands, Gonsalves, Palmer, Akuamouah, Bailey, Honey, Bolt, Fowler, Watson. SUBS : Hanlan, Brooker, Corbett

THE REFEREE’S A………totally incompetant halfwitted fuckhead. And thats DESPITE him sending off 2 oppo players. ‘Cos, lets be honest, even my mum would have known they both deserved to walk.

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