2012-13 Uncovered: Tuesday 19th February - The Southend Chronicles I; All Manor Of Fogginess

   It was squeaky bum time, as blubbering mediocre manager Steve Bruce once said.  I never take much notice of what he says usually.  After all, he kept whining to the press about being sacked at Sunderland because he was a geordie.  

   Funny that, as Bob Stokoe, black and white to the core of his soul, seemed to not suffer such prejudice.  No Steve, you were sacked because you were shit at your job, and that's why the fans wanted you sacked.  Long winless streaks and, latterly, slipping into the relegation zone, done for Bruce.  And nothing else.

   I'm going off the beaten track because that was what Southend United supporters wanted to do, too.  The night before their second leg with Leyton Orient.  90 minutes from a cup final Wembley, the first in their history, so long as they avoided defeat.  But up against a side a division above them, with a injury rvaged squad.  The Shrimpers, despite being 1-0 up and at home, were still up against.  So close but so far.

   To try to take their minds off it, Southchurch Park Arena obligingly had a game on.  Southend Manor's season continued on its' weary way.  We all know league tables can be misleading, that you can be in a false position - but they don't lie.  

   Manor continued to disappoint.   15th in a 19-strong Essex Senior League.  It's a hefty drop from the heights of last season's runners-up berth.  Just four league wins from 21.  True, they had games in hand on the side immediately above them, Stansted.  But everyone else in the lower and middle sections of the table had played less than them.

   The noises continually coming out were that the team were playing well, really unlucky, etc, etc.  Indeed, I know there's plenty of talent at this level within their squad.  But you can only blame so much on the rub of the green, or if you're Great Wakering Rovers, the ref.  

   Standng in their way this evening were Enfield 1893, perennial title challengers, denied promotion a couple of seasons back through ground grading requirements.  This time around they were 4th but, to all intents and purposes, out of the title race.  13 points behind leaders Burnham Ramblers with just tonight's game in hand. Just pride and 3 inconsequential points at stake for both sides.

   The chap on the makeshift gate was jovial enough to me, in the concrete mess as a new turnstile was in the process of being built.  He informed me, though, that there were no programmes as one Enfield fan bought the lot.  Blimey, he's either got deep pockets, at £2 a pop, or there wasn't a high print run.

   Just before kick-off, Ed and Bri wander in, along with a number of other Southend United supporters trying to keep their minds off tomorrow.  They were somewhat put out though.  They handed their £6 each over, only to be told "One of your lot has bought all the programmes."  

   This guy has taken their money at various times through the season.  They have been coming to the odd Manor game, probably a good half dozen or so, every season for a number of years.  But here they were, being treated like strangers.

   They could have forgiven it, except that a few minutes into the game, after Manor open the scoring, chairman Steve shouts to them "Don't worry, we always let the opposition come back into it, you've still got a chance."  Steve literally stood in front of Bri just before Christmas against Bowers, and sat directly behind Ed at Clapton.  I explained to him they weren't Enfield fans, only to be met with a "What?".  

   Anyway, while this irrelevance was going on, and in between reading the new graffiti written on the stand, from what I could see, Manor were at last determined not to feel sorry for themselves.  They scored early on through Ben Hudson, and proceeded to dominate throughout the entire first half.

   Aaron Baldwin, after about 20 previous attempts, finally doubled the hosts lead about half an hour or so in.  I missed it, of course, because Ed was demonstrating how a four fingered goalkeeping glove works.  My guess of cutting off the thumb was apparently not the way.  Although it would explain Pepe Reina this season.

   Danso soon after made it 3-0 to Southend Manor.  Then it came.  Not gradually, but bang, straight across the entire pitch in a matter of seconds.  Freezing fog.  It was so quick, how it came down, that Ed and I were convinced that there must be a nearby fire.  I've never known fog that thick to come down so quickly.  It was clearly unplayable in the uncleariness.

   With it being so close to half time the ref, who had kindly donated Bri his match programmes, and so by definition had a stonkingly good game up until then, played out the last few minutes of the first half, in the shadow of ghostly figures apparently playing football.  For all we could see they could've been playing with themselves.  In which case it'd be just as well the fog was there.

   We, despite the mist, could see what was coming.  As we came out of the clubhouse, more in hope than expectation of seeing a second half, the ref and linesmen came wandering back down the tunnel towards the changing rooms.  He put a finger across his throat.  Either he was late for a gangland killing or the match was abandoned.

   Behind him was Southend Manor boss Russ.  He was desperately pleading with the ref about the unfairness of the decision.  You had to feel for the guy.  At last, Manor had played really well, and ripped a top 4 side apart, and now had it snatched away without the waiting even for 5 minutes to see if the fog lifted. Russ was proper radge.

   We soon made our way home, after a convivial chat with Tubbsy and JJ amongst others back in the clubhouse.  Along with Russ, Stef, Linda, and a few others, they are club stalwarts, good men, just what every football club needs.  As we departed though, a group of other Manor people, hanging around outside the clubhouse entrance, glared at me, and commented on 'how lucky you are'.  Any sympathy I had for Southend Manor at that point disappeared. 

   Sometimes you get what you deserve.  Southend Manor, as a club and a team, clearly didn't, thanks to the ref.  But some who've attached themselves to Manor - well, as I've said often enough, karma can be a bitch sometimes.

   Tonight, though, guys, you were karma's bitches.

   Southend Manor 3,  Enfield 1893 0  (abandoned after 45 minutes - fog)