It was the Mother’s birthday this weekend, so I went all out and treated her, by buggering off down the Avenue, spending a fortune in the local drinking establishments and waking up on the floor of Steve’s bedroom. Happy birthday Mum!
We don’t tend to bother about writing about home games here at The Same Old Few. From my part it’s because every single blog would be identical (see above) but mainly because none of us regular contributors make it to home games any more. Three hours spent on South West Trains with 90 minutes of Conference South football at the end?! No, ta. We like getting drunk, make a noise and generally take the piss a bit. Can you imagine how that would fit in at The Avenue!?
But on this occasion, we’ll break the mould. It was Alan’s birthday on Saturday and the granddad of the group deserves a shout out. The other reason is because it was Sutton in town. And Sutton means points… and passing out, somewhere. In the away leg, our friends over at Gandermonium where good enough hosts to get us utterly plastered and even put us up for the evening. Only right that one of us, under the guise of a family birthday, shows our face. We owe ‘em one.
I’ve got a lot of time for Sutton. Without wanting to become too much of a obsequious sychopant, it’s hard not too. Their fans get behind their club, buying merchandise, supporting the fundraising schemes, volunteering time etc. But most of all, they love to get drunk and sticker the fuck out of opposition grounds (More on that later).
Earlier in the week, we found out that one of our lot, Mike (that’s not his real name, to save him any embarrassment. His real name is Max) used to shag the former Mayoress of Sutton. So you can imagine, upon meeting up with Steve and then heading to The Junction to meet up with the Gandermonium lot, that it was only a matter of seconds until I blurted that one out with more than a small degree of delight. At least somebody at Dorchester Town FC can score.
We headed round to the George (where Steve showed utter disregard for his ban – cos you can quite easily at 11am) for a couple more, where Tom and Jake joined us, before leaving the Sutton lot to their pub crawl around town, as we jumped in a taxi to do our duty and put some coppers behind the Avenue bar.
The game was a dull, dull affair, which saw us hang on for a much needed point. We travel to second place Eastleigh tomorrow and then it gets serious, with seven of the proverbial “six pointers” in a row.
Back in the bar after the match and things took a surreal turn as our over officious safety officer took umbrage with the Sutton lot stickering the fuck out of the home terrace (as we did at their place) and made a complaint straight to Sutton Chairman. I’m still not quite sure how stickers are a risk to supporter safety (for that is all a steward is there to look after and nothing more) but it led to a really quite bizarre series of events where by one of the Sutton lot was pulled aside by their chairman and given a bit of a word, before a director of ours came over and told them “Don’t worry about it lads” and with a point of the finger at us lot, said “These lot are just as bad at it.” Guilty, your honour.
(You bring the England bus, expect it to get stickered. Make complaints available to….)
And with that goodbyes were said. The Sutton lot heading back to Dorch South station and us lot staying in the bar, drinking shots of Malibu, abusing Alan Walker-Harris and boring the arse off the safety steward, who by this stage appeared to be feeling a little bit sheepish about the earlier act of jobsworthery. (Fuck off, it’s definitely a word)
Having been kicked out of the bar at closing time, we headed up to Vivo Lounge to continue celebrating Alan’s birthday and jumped on to some poor lady’s hen do. Red Rags to a bull for the single lads, but ultimately with no luck as the effects of a day of full on drinking got in the way and things got messy…. But not quite as messy as it got for Sutton, judging by this sent to us by the Gandermonium chappess the next day.
Bravo chaps, Bravo.