Whilst all the fun was going on at Underhill last night, Roots Hall was also an enjoyable place to be for home supporters. Southend United brushed aside fellow League Two promotion hopefuls Chesterfield with a performance that had many observers purring. Which means a lot of their supporters are cats.
Anyhow, an unbeaten run stretching easily into double figures, a clean sheet, three points, and a great performance. You'd think all Shrimpers supporters would be chuffed. Apparently not. Looking at their online forum, though, the hottest topic of conversation was criticising the keeper, who had apparently made a mis-kicking error during his clean sheet. Page after page of complaining and arguing back.
It seems to be endemic in their interweb supporters. Another person bemoaned the lack of report on Wednesday's trip to Hullbridge on the official site, claiming it was a 'poor effort' now the club's previous media manager had left.
Just two things to slightly undermine such an insightful opinion. There was indeed a report on the website. And the club's facebook, website, and twitter page has improved no end since the new guy started, showing up what a lazy, useless, pile of shit service the previous one was providing.
Still, while all this online bollocks was going on, the rain continued to piss down. Match after match after match was called off. It left us, at mid-morning, with a choice of one. A trip across the water to check out Maidstone United and their 3g pitch.
It was four of us in the Mystery Machine today. Bri, James Ewe, and Ref Glen were also making the trip over the Thames to see how the underclass live. Before that, though, Bri made me an offer I can refuse. There's some deal going with the cricket where you can take your wife. He reckoned that with gay marriages and stuff, he could swing it for me to get in for a game.
Believe me, you really don't know how far I'd be prepared to go to get a Scottish Cup Final ticket if Ross County or Hearts were in it. But I'm not going to hold another man's hand, or even give him one up the wrong 'un, just to save a few quid on an afternoon of Essex v some God awful Northern county.
Bri was saying that the gateman would never ask for proof. You never know though. Perhaps he got to be gateman by goosing David East. Which would explain why he's gone west. Him, the Southend media manager, and another Shrimpers employee, all gone since Bri expressed a dim view of them. Blimey. A hit man. Maybe I should rubber up just to save myself.
I digress. Quickly. Maidstone hadn't changed much since the last time I visited about 20 years ago for a sponsored tractor pull. Don't ask. But the fortunes of their football team had. From 4th Division play-offs in 1990, Maidstone United soon went into extinction.
A new club, Maidstone Invicta, was formed, plying their trade in local leagues, and outside the town for almost two decades, until moving back into the town this year, replete with 3g pitch, as they bid to get out of the Ryman One South. The Maidstone public have responded, too, with crowds consistently above 1,500.
After the gay cricket offer, which spoilt even conversation about lipstick lesbians, it was a blessed relief to get to the Gallagher Stadium, even if it was still pouring down. At first glance it seemed a bit of a let down. An identikit new ground. Breeze blocks, drab colours, bereft of character or charm. Plus points was a bar behind the goal. And, of course, the pitch.
Nonetheless, the Maidstone public had a senior football club back, and they kept their part of the deal, turning out in huge numbers for a non-league club not in the Conference. They were colourful, too, with people of all ages wearing club colours, and lots of it.
It made them look right mongs, mind, but you had to admire their enthusiasm. Apart from those zany people dressed as Santa. They should be shot. With shit. And bullets. Merry Christmas.
The lambs to the slaughter this afternoon were up from the Sussex coast, Worthing. A handful of visiting fans had turned up, and had good reason to believe their lambs could become the lions. Sure, Maidstone topped the league, but the Rebels were in the thick of the play-off race. This could be a good 'un.
My previous rant about useless media managers doesn't just stop in South Essex, mind. Every few minutes, the PA announcer kept burbling on about being the only game on "because we have a 3g pitch." The club's official twitter feed even boasted about it, in an obvious 'look what we've got, we're better than you' way.
Yeah, you've got 3g, but most clubs can't afford it, as you well know. Bearing in mind this club rose from the ashes of a previously bankrupted one, it seems some people have forgotten where they came from. Arrogance doesn't sit well with anyone, least of all a Ryman One South club.
It was as if even karma paid a visit today, though. Within a few minutes of the crass announcements and kick-off, Worthing won a free kick, it was delivered quickly into the area, and bang, own goal, 0-1 to the visitors. Silenced by the lambs. And perhaps a lesson taught.
From thereon in, the game settled into a familiar pattern, the home side making most of the running, the visitors looking dangerous on the break, with not much between them.
With the rain continuing to pour down, both keepers were making the odd handling error, but they atoned for them before any advantage could be taken. Entirely understandable in these conditions. I wondered how a Roots Hall crowd would have reacted though.
And on it went, into the second half, our end soon emptying whilst the Stones attacked the opposite goal. The few Worthing fans stood next to us instead, and now, no longer heavily outnumbered by home supporters, they began to sing, feeling ever more confident as each minute passed by.
Confidence became assuredness 10 minutes into the second half. A shot comes in, the Maidstone keeper fumbles it, it shoots up into the air about a yard out, and it's bundled in. 2-0 to Worthing. This wasn't in the script. Chortle.
The visiting supporters went from assured to cocky. "Are you Bognor in disguise?" is not something I thought I'd ever hear. Or will again. But when they began to sing "Can we play you every week?", they were asking for it, really. They'd seem karma kick Maidstone up the arse and they were still foolish enough to tempt fate.
Their chant was silenced with Maidstone halving the deficit even as the words were leaving their mouths. All of a sudden, the feel of the game, and the day, had changed. Worthing were well in control. Maidstone, in the body language, were starting to believe they would get beat. Not now though.
I looked around again. The grey breeze block stand with plastic seats. The functional, dull clubhouse, with the look of an industrial unit from the outside. Yet now, it was different. The amber and black of the home side were in evidence all around the pitch. There was a noise, some anticipation, some hope. At last, a football ground felt like a home. Due to the people in it, not the design.
Five minutes to go. A corner on the right. More roars of encouragement from the home fans. It's not cleared properly. A shot. Bang. Off the bar. And into the net. 2-2. The Gallagher Stadium erupts. And I chortle. Karma, having kicked Maidstone arse, now punches Worthing supporters smack in the face.
The Stones looked likely winners now but that would be a shame, as Worthing were at least their equal for long stretches of the game. The hosts pressed and pressed but, apart from a badly mishit shot, never really threatened after that.
Full time. A share of the spoils was a fair result. I was pleased we'd all come along, to see the delights of a 3g match with my own eyes, and to see if ground designs had any originality in them. They don't, of course, but that doesn't matter to Maidstone United supporters. Having a club in their hometown is all that matters.
The journey home was uneventful. We were all looking ahead to Boxing Day, New Years Day. Different matches, different places. That little shindig coming up in three days time? Pah. Who cares?
I do, as it goes. I genuinely love this time of year.
Merry Christmas to you all.
Maidstone United 2, Worthing 2
Anyhow, an unbeaten run stretching easily into double figures, a clean sheet, three points, and a great performance. You'd think all Shrimpers supporters would be chuffed. Apparently not. Looking at their online forum, though, the hottest topic of conversation was criticising the keeper, who had apparently made a mis-kicking error during his clean sheet. Page after page of complaining and arguing back.
Just two things to slightly undermine such an insightful opinion. There was indeed a report on the website. And the club's facebook, website, and twitter page has improved no end since the new guy started, showing up what a lazy, useless, pile of shit service the previous one was providing.
Still, while all this online bollocks was going on, the rain continued to piss down. Match after match after match was called off. It left us, at mid-morning, with a choice of one. A trip across the water to check out Maidstone United and their 3g pitch.
Believe me, you really don't know how far I'd be prepared to go to get a Scottish Cup Final ticket if Ross County or Hearts were in it. But I'm not going to hold another man's hand, or even give him one up the wrong 'un, just to save a few quid on an afternoon of Essex v some God awful Northern county.
Bri was saying that the gateman would never ask for proof. You never know though. Perhaps he got to be gateman by goosing David East. Which would explain why he's gone west. Him, the Southend media manager, and another Shrimpers employee, all gone since Bri expressed a dim view of them. Blimey. A hit man. Maybe I should rubber up just to save myself.I digress. Quickly. Maidstone hadn't changed much since the last time I visited about 20 years ago for a sponsored tractor pull. Don't ask. But the fortunes of their football team had. From 4th Division play-offs in 1990, Maidstone United soon went into extinction.
A new club, Maidstone Invicta, was formed, plying their trade in local leagues, and outside the town for almost two decades, until moving back into the town this year, replete with 3g pitch, as they bid to get out of the Ryman One South. The Maidstone public have responded, too, with crowds consistently above 1,500.After the gay cricket offer, which spoilt even conversation about lipstick lesbians, it was a blessed relief to get to the Gallagher Stadium, even if it was still pouring down. At first glance it seemed a bit of a let down. An identikit new ground. Breeze blocks, drab colours, bereft of character or charm. Plus points was a bar behind the goal. And, of course, the pitch.
It made them look right mongs, mind, but you had to admire their enthusiasm. Apart from those zany people dressed as Santa. They should be shot. With shit. And bullets. Merry Christmas.
The lambs to the slaughter this afternoon were up from the Sussex coast, Worthing. A handful of visiting fans had turned up, and had good reason to believe their lambs could become the lions. Sure, Maidstone topped the league, but the Rebels were in the thick of the play-off race. This could be a good 'un.
My previous rant about useless media managers doesn't just stop in South Essex, mind. Every few minutes, the PA announcer kept burbling on about being the only game on "because we have a 3g pitch." The club's official twitter feed even boasted about it, in an obvious 'look what we've got, we're better than you' way.
Yeah, you've got 3g, but most clubs can't afford it, as you well know. Bearing in mind this club rose from the ashes of a previously bankrupted one, it seems some people have forgotten where they came from. Arrogance doesn't sit well with anyone, least of all a Ryman One South club.
From thereon in, the game settled into a familiar pattern, the home side making most of the running, the visitors looking dangerous on the break, with not much between them.
With the rain continuing to pour down, both keepers were making the odd handling error, but they atoned for them before any advantage could be taken. Entirely understandable in these conditions. I wondered how a Roots Hall crowd would have reacted though.
Confidence became assuredness 10 minutes into the second half. A shot comes in, the Maidstone keeper fumbles it, it shoots up into the air about a yard out, and it's bundled in. 2-0 to Worthing. This wasn't in the script. Chortle.
The visiting supporters went from assured to cocky. "Are you Bognor in disguise?" is not something I thought I'd ever hear. Or will again. But when they began to sing "Can we play you every week?", they were asking for it, really. They'd seem karma kick Maidstone up the arse and they were still foolish enough to tempt fate.
Their chant was silenced with Maidstone halving the deficit even as the words were leaving their mouths. All of a sudden, the feel of the game, and the day, had changed. Worthing were well in control. Maidstone, in the body language, were starting to believe they would get beat. Not now though.
I looked around again. The grey breeze block stand with plastic seats. The functional, dull clubhouse, with the look of an industrial unit from the outside. Yet now, it was different. The amber and black of the home side were in evidence all around the pitch. There was a noise, some anticipation, some hope. At last, a football ground felt like a home. Due to the people in it, not the design.Five minutes to go. A corner on the right. More roars of encouragement from the home fans. It's not cleared properly. A shot. Bang. Off the bar. And into the net. 2-2. The Gallagher Stadium erupts. And I chortle. Karma, having kicked Maidstone arse, now punches Worthing supporters smack in the face.
The Stones looked likely winners now but that would be a shame, as Worthing were at least their equal for long stretches of the game. The hosts pressed and pressed but, apart from a badly mishit shot, never really threatened after that.
The journey home was uneventful. We were all looking ahead to Boxing Day, New Years Day. Different matches, different places. That little shindig coming up in three days time? Pah. Who cares?
I do, as it goes. I genuinely love this time of year.
Merry Christmas to you all.
Maidstone United 2, Worthing 2
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