The Resurrection of Juan. After a bit of a break from doing the write ups for various
reasons on Gandermonium, for two reasons mainly. The shackles of love holding
me down, and the lack of permission slips from she who must be obeyed!
That’s right I’m back
for more…more pain, pleasure, football, and shit! So lets wind the clock
back, and take a look at this week’s events. It’s been a bit of a shit house
week for a member of the crew, Dukey!
After making the trip down to Wood on Monday night, he
returns home to find his front door smashed in by the local scum, and his house
has been turned over. Worst of all, the pikey scum bags made off in his motor,
of which contained one of Dukes most loved possessions, the Surrey Senior Cup
constructed of course from the finest Tin Foil! Poor fella.
Look on the bright side
though Duke, at least they didn’t look under your mattress; you’ve still got
your collection of midget porn DVDs, and the sacred collection of Flat Caps!
|This is probably a fake….|
Back on track, our newest recruited member of Gandermonium
Totts gave us his account of Wood away, which saw us bag the 3 points, which
sent us up the table to third. With two wins on the bounce, hopefully today, we
can continue our climb, which in hope will see us climb into second, if lady
luck is with us!
Today’s opponents are Tonbridge, a bit of a bogey side for
us across the years. Tonbridge currently lying in the bottom 3 of the Skrill South,
I’m sure they will come to us in full force, needing a win to lift them out of
the shit! For those religious readers of Gandermonium, you would have seen
Dukes write up on the away fixture, Who are Tud-Binge Angles? If you fancy a
read of this one, you’ll find the link in the September Archive!
“Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth”-Ecclesiastes.
To me, that translates
to, it’s Saturday, time for football, and time for a few ! So here we go. A
quick walk up the cobbles to Banstead Train Station to join my train into
Sutton. A few minutes pass, and I jump on the train heading into West Sutton,
where I locate the Duke, still wearing his sorrow frown. A short blast down the
path, and we are in, back home, in the bar. A few pre-match drinks pass their way
down the Billy Goat!
|Home of the occasionally alright U’s….|
With the time now pressing 2:45 it was time for me to leave
the others at the Bar, so I could head over to the club shop to pick up a
replica shirt, well in advance for our trip to Serbia in May next year. Having
paid the man, I linked up with the old man, and we headed down the terrace to
take our positions for the game. The old man feeling the cold, stayed under
cover out of the cold and blowy conditions, and headed over to the usual spot behind
the goal at the Collingwood Road End.
Onto the game, and well clearly this was going to be a tough
one. The pitch looking heavy, from the rain the night before, and with gusts
blowing across the park, we would have to keep the ball on the deck as best we
could, and keep it simple.
So with kick off under way, we started at a reasonable pace
out the blocks, the conditions clearly taking toll, on our preferred technique.
Some 14 minutes pass, Scannel wins a free kick out on the left flank, on the
outside of the box. Nelson steps up, and delivers the ball into a crowded box,
the ball heading deep across the box, finds Clough rising high, Clough connects
and powers the ball of his forehead into the back of the net. 1-0 Sutton, happy
days! Up steps Greek with the winning Golden Goal Ticket, the first time he has
won it I believe.
|Action action action!|
Tonbridge under clear instructions from their manager
Warrilow, don’t hold back, and start to press our back four. Tonbridge ping the
ball out into the both channels, which causes us a few problems at the back, as
we seem to get caught under pressure. A cross comes in from the right, and
Lovelock makes a great save, but Chris Piper follows up, and taps it in. A lack
of concentration, and lack of pressing the ball, costs us our lead. Tonbridge
now full of confidence continue to press us, and we seem to struggle to win
anything in the middle of the park. Before the half time whistle is blown, we
are awarded a free kick on the outside of the box, in an ideal position. With a
5 man wall protecting the Tonbridge goal, Rents steps up for this one, and
blasts it over the bar. Well that for me kind of sums up the frustration.
A quick half time cup of tea, and snickers, we all resume
our position in the shoebox, for the 2nd 45.Well the second half
started poorly, again we seemed and looked tired. Clearly the conditions under
foot taking its toll, on members of the squad. We lacked composure in the
middle of the park, and kept giving the ball away time after time. A further
lack of concentration, and giving the ball away, we go and get punished for it.
Typical really, kind of makes the win on Monday and all the hard work go down
the drain. An exchange of personal , Slabbs makes way for Downer, and Clough
pushes up top. Seems we’re going for it, trying to pull one back for the draw!
Our last chance of the game falls to Ali, a free kick awarded on the outside of
the box; Ali steps up, and pings it round the wall, the Tonbridge dives to his
left, and gets the slightest of touches, and the ball hits the post. What a bullock!
Final whistle blown it finishes Sutton 1-2 Tonbridge. Not impressed with today’s
performance if I’m brutally honest. With the players we have, and the skill
sets we should really be turning over teams that sit in the bottom of the
league. Fair play to Tonbridge, they took their chances we didn’t.
So we head off to the bar, to drown our sorrows, the usual
is ordered, ciders and various other measures of booze. Knocking back a few
Bulmers, time was pushing on, and it was the time for the Strikers Are Key
draw. The lucky number gets pulled from the velvet bag, and Scanners steps up,
but sadly pulls an incorrect key to open the safe. So the 700 large rolls over
to Boxing Day, plus a further 200 notes and any potentially more if Slabbs or
Duns bags some goals. All the members of the firm were gathered by the pool
table, and Binns is just behind us, having just signed a shirt which was
auctioned for charity. Pen still in his hand, Duke boys flat cap gets thrown
over the table into the hands of Binns, who does the honours and signs Dukes Flat
cap. Well if Dukes week couldn’t get any worse, it sure has now!
|Ere, some git’s scribbled on your hat!|
Drinking up, we do the usual after any home
game, and well you know the score, head off down the cobbles into Sutton in the
Direction of the Grapes. God only knows how we haven’t been banned from this
place. With the Grapes pretty rammed out for a Saturday night, we struggle at first
to get hold of a table until me and Mr X bag us a table or two, and we take
over the entrance to the Pub. The normally Saturday night procedure is carried
out for us , food is ordered to absorb the vast quantities of liquid already
consumed. Dukey and Al Chalmers finally join us, after nursing their pints back
in the Club Bar some 1 hour or so later and well this is where it all goes
downhill. First of all, one person is caught on camera in a rather compromising
position in the Gents facilities.
No names, and no pictures I’m afraid, these
are the rules. 2nd to that shit starts to fly over the pub, empty
fag boxes end up in pint glasses, followed by a dose of Mayonnaise poured into
a pint of Fosters. This is well the whole night went downhill and fast, a
member of the firm decides he’s had enough of these games and leaves. Soon to
follow is Loffers, and P.C. With a full glass of Gin on the table, the Editor
in Chief leaves, as does Al Chalmers, which leaves me and Dukey to entertain
the locals, and on second thoughts after a quick glance at the current clientele,
we think fuck this, and head off up the High Street in the direction of the faithful
and forever reliant Tapuri.
|Late night watering hole.|
I for one can tell you, when you’ve had a few,
walking up the steady incline to the top of the High Street can feel like you’ve
just climbed Everest! On arrival at
Tapuri the place is empty, so we order up a couple of bottles of Becks, and
some grub, to settle the noises coming from the booze filled stomachs. We get
chatting to the owner of the establishment, and as luck would have it, we sit
back and relax watching Clear and Present Danger, going through various quotes
from this Film. Some 45 mins in, and the establishment turns into a night club
venue, the local scruff pour in from all directions. Time to call it a night me
thinks. 1:20 AM and it’s cab time, good night Vienna !