It had felt like ages since Chipper and I had done a Saturday game for the radio. It hadn't, of course, it just feels like Hearts had gone through another decade of turmoil in the past fortnight. A month, though, since the last local side we had covered was too long.
It had been even longer since Brentwood Town were featured. That grisly afternoon - for them at least - at South Park had jolted them a bit, but had recovered and were coming into a bit of form. But it was a big ask today as they again hit the Middlesex / Surrey border.
Kingstonian themselves were having a decent season, up in the play-off slots of the Ryman Premier. Previous winners of the FA Trophy to boot, so would be motivated to live up to both their recent and more distant past in the competition. Brentwood would travel with some hope but little expectation.
No matter. It was a trip to be made via London so inevitably was a little detour to Oxford Street and Carnaby Street. It had to be done. Gary: Tank Commander series 3 was out on dvd and Chipper needed a Green Day cd. In this dull, dank day, we were wary that the football might not be the greatest to watch today, so at least the morning was salvaged.
As was lunch. A cracking chippy right by the ground and a sweet shop that had bottles and cans of drink right by the front door. The local shopkeepers obviously know their market well. We were fed and watered royally.
As we reached the press box, Martin Tyler was a few yards away, warming up his side. And, again, no euphemisms either. I've always respected the guy for not mentioning Kingstonian in his commentaries, unlike other Sky presenters who look for the merest opportunity to shout about their club or what they do. He quietly goes about his work.
Talking of respect, the minute's silence before kick-off was observed wonderfully. It was unnoticed, or simply ignored and not mentioned, that the vast majority of people in Kingsmeadow weren't wearing poppies. Why? Because it's their choice. The precise thing our soldiers down the years have fought for the right to have. A point that was being lost at that time elsewhere.
If today's blog so far has had little to do with football, it's simply because neither of us thought today's game would exactly be a classic. In fact, we overestimated. The first half was by some measure the worst 45 minutes of the season so far. Devoid of any interest, let alone excitement.
Brentwood, it has to be said, did at least look like they wanted to be on the pitch. Solid at the back, getting slightly the better of it in midfield, and Alex Read lively. It's just that little was created, which is entirely understandable for the away side who operate a division below their opponents.
No, it was Kingstonian who were largely responsible for the non-event thus far. They could barely string two passes together. Free kicks and corners were heading straight and comfortably into the arms of visiting keeper Elliott Justham. The one chance they created was a volley inside the area that hit the roof of the terracing behind the goal. Appalling.
This is where radio work is at its most difficult. You don't want to be as damning as you really should but at the same time need to balance it out with giving listeners a true picture of what was going on. I can't quite remember what we said but it was along the lines of 'there have been worse games this season but we haven't seen them.'
It had to get better and in the first quarter of an hour of the second half it did. K's sent on sub Craig Mullen and his first contribution was a little lob over a defender's foot, a shot through the keeper's leg, and a looping deflection into the net.
It encouraged the home side to finish Brentwood off. They came forward - and paid the price. The visitors counter-attacked swiftly and Alex Read beautifully lobbed the keeper from the right hand edge of the area. This is better. Much better. I'd rather be struggling to keep up with my radio work than sitting there wondering if I'd Sky+'d Soccer Saturday.
We thought Brentwood might just take control and perhaps win. But lo and behold, Kingstonian produce their first half-decent set-piece of the afternoon. Corner. Header. 2-1. After 45 minutes of shite, three goals and decent football in the next 15 or so. Thank Christ for that.
After all that fun, though, the game fizzles out, and I begin to have a look round. Kingsmeadow is certainly a tidy little ground, including a long lost relic of the Football League, a covered enclosure down the side of the pitch. How did AFC Wimbledon get away with that little beauty when they were admitted to League Two? Nice work.
In truth, though, they didn't need the three stands that were open today. The crowd was a little under 300. Seeing a full terrace or enclosure looks fantastic. Seeing them virtually empty, though, well, it seems just a little underwhelming. I'd hope K's get bigger crowds for league games.
After all of that gazing and pondering, time had nearly run out, without incident at either end. This was Chipper and I at the match, though, on the radio. Brentwood win a corner on the left, as the 89th minute was fast becoming the 90th. In it goes. High. Across the face of goal. To hit the far post.
There's silence around Kingsmeadow. Has it gone out for a goal kick or something. Nobody can quite see where the ball's gone. We look around the pitch. Kingstonian players are stationary. Then, we see, near the right corner, the Brentwood players wheeling away, celebrating. 2-2. Bizarre.
It turns out Darren Blewitt got the merest of touches inside the six yard box as the ball hit the post and went in but hardly anyone saw it. Some clever clogs in the press box behind us claim they saw a centre half at the far post. Except there wasn't anyone at the far post. That's why it wasn't defended and went in.
Within a few seconds the full time whistle goes. You could say Brentwood Town stole a draw but you'd be wrong. They simply scored a late, but deserved, equaliser. There's a bit of a stunned air around the home supporters, mixed with annoyance. Tuesday at the Arena could be a tricky night for them.
As the teams and management trudged down the tunnel, Martin Tyler was the personification of annoyance. His walk was brisk, his eyes looking downwards, his brows getting closer together. A man of wondrous words on tv, he said nothing, but his face painted a thousand of them. He was furious. As any coach or manager would be after defending like that.
We travelled home, contemplating the replay, and the media storm over Sunderland's James McClean not wearing a poppy on his shirt. There's so many reasons why he should or shouldn't, but this is one of those issues where nobody will change their mind with reasonable debate. Some think he's scum. Others think he's merely exercising freedom of choice.
Me? I couldn't care less what a person does, says or think, so long as they're not breaking the law, imposing their views onto mine, or putting me in a situation where I break my own moral code. As I pointed out earlier, the vast majority here today never wore a poppy. Who's to say none of them were asked to but refused?
Awful first half, good second half, a tired and tiresome media storm afterwards. The beautiful game indeed .....
Kingstonian 2, Brentwood Town 2
It had been even longer since Brentwood Town were featured. That grisly afternoon - for them at least - at South Park had jolted them a bit, but had recovered and were coming into a bit of form. But it was a big ask today as they again hit the Middlesex / Surrey border.
No matter. It was a trip to be made via London so inevitably was a little detour to Oxford Street and Carnaby Street. It had to be done. Gary: Tank Commander series 3 was out on dvd and Chipper needed a Green Day cd. In this dull, dank day, we were wary that the football might not be the greatest to watch today, so at least the morning was salvaged.
As was lunch. A cracking chippy right by the ground and a sweet shop that had bottles and cans of drink right by the front door. The local shopkeepers obviously know their market well. We were fed and watered royally.
Talking of respect, the minute's silence before kick-off was observed wonderfully. It was unnoticed, or simply ignored and not mentioned, that the vast majority of people in Kingsmeadow weren't wearing poppies. Why? Because it's their choice. The precise thing our soldiers down the years have fought for the right to have. A point that was being lost at that time elsewhere.
If today's blog so far has had little to do with football, it's simply because neither of us thought today's game would exactly be a classic. In fact, we overestimated. The first half was by some measure the worst 45 minutes of the season so far. Devoid of any interest, let alone excitement.
No, it was Kingstonian who were largely responsible for the non-event thus far. They could barely string two passes together. Free kicks and corners were heading straight and comfortably into the arms of visiting keeper Elliott Justham. The one chance they created was a volley inside the area that hit the roof of the terracing behind the goal. Appalling.
This is where radio work is at its most difficult. You don't want to be as damning as you really should but at the same time need to balance it out with giving listeners a true picture of what was going on. I can't quite remember what we said but it was along the lines of 'there have been worse games this season but we haven't seen them.'
It encouraged the home side to finish Brentwood off. They came forward - and paid the price. The visitors counter-attacked swiftly and Alex Read beautifully lobbed the keeper from the right hand edge of the area. This is better. Much better. I'd rather be struggling to keep up with my radio work than sitting there wondering if I'd Sky+'d Soccer Saturday.
We thought Brentwood might just take control and perhaps win. But lo and behold, Kingstonian produce their first half-decent set-piece of the afternoon. Corner. Header. 2-1. After 45 minutes of shite, three goals and decent football in the next 15 or so. Thank Christ for that.
In truth, though, they didn't need the three stands that were open today. The crowd was a little under 300. Seeing a full terrace or enclosure looks fantastic. Seeing them virtually empty, though, well, it seems just a little underwhelming. I'd hope K's get bigger crowds for league games.
After all of that gazing and pondering, time had nearly run out, without incident at either end. This was Chipper and I at the match, though, on the radio. Brentwood win a corner on the left, as the 89th minute was fast becoming the 90th. In it goes. High. Across the face of goal. To hit the far post.
It turns out Darren Blewitt got the merest of touches inside the six yard box as the ball hit the post and went in but hardly anyone saw it. Some clever clogs in the press box behind us claim they saw a centre half at the far post. Except there wasn't anyone at the far post. That's why it wasn't defended and went in.
Within a few seconds the full time whistle goes. You could say Brentwood Town stole a draw but you'd be wrong. They simply scored a late, but deserved, equaliser. There's a bit of a stunned air around the home supporters, mixed with annoyance. Tuesday at the Arena could be a tricky night for them.
We travelled home, contemplating the replay, and the media storm over Sunderland's James McClean not wearing a poppy on his shirt. There's so many reasons why he should or shouldn't, but this is one of those issues where nobody will change their mind with reasonable debate. Some think he's scum. Others think he's merely exercising freedom of choice.
Me? I couldn't care less what a person does, says or think, so long as they're not breaking the law, imposing their views onto mine, or putting me in a situation where I break my own moral code. As I pointed out earlier, the vast majority here today never wore a poppy. Who's to say none of them were asked to but refused?
Awful first half, good second half, a tired and tiresome media storm afterwards. The beautiful game indeed .....
Kingstonian 2, Brentwood Town 2
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