Daily Archives: March 12, 2009

Missing The Game 1 (St Albans City 0 AFC Wimbledon 0)

So the first ever match report I have ever written turns out to be a game I didn’t have the pleasure of attending, so keen am I to add my two penneth to all those other misguided souls who believe their opinion actualy matters. Fortunately it features a match which I’mguessing won’t be using up too much bandwidth when the highlights are uploaded to Youtube. Perhaps this match report will be a better read than recent efforts from so-called professionals such as the Blue Square South official site (obviously phoned in) or the Non League Paper (depending on who writes the report – one recent effort described the goal against Thurrock as ‘taking a deflection off Sam Hattons hand’ which managed to make it sound more ridiculous than the actual real life goal, which everyone who saw in the flesh will agree would have taken some doing). After listening to the game on Radio WDON I could have got away with just fabricating my attendance, but I would have been expected to wax lyrical about St Albans ground in the absence of any real action which I’m genuinely upset about not being able to visit.

Eventually it was man flu that prevented my attendance. It was a game I was destined not to go to as I would have missed the original game to attend a family get together with some seriously minted relatives – as my poor departed Nan used to say, “Dont let ’em give it all te t’church!”. So I had the rare pleasure of taking in the game via the soothing tones of Radio WDONs Mikey T. Not the whole game unfortunately as my computer was having connection issues during the first half. I’d love to say I spent the time watching the Champions League ties featuring the Pride Of Britain but the wife wanted to watch Friends, and its fair to say I didn’t exactly put up a fight over that one. I say let’s just give the trophy to Man U right now so we can enjoy endless back to back Ford and Mastercard adverts every Tuesday for the next two months.

But enough of the cynicism. More about the Dons. I didn’t need to be at the game to realise this was Weston Super Mare all over again, minus the debatable penalty decisions. The Wimbledon we have seen in large portions at Havant, Weston and now St Albans reminds me of the guy in the Talk To Frank advert enjoying a spliff with Giggles and Munchies only for Paranoia and Fear to gatecrash his personal party. Except there’s nothing funny about it and the only comfort eating is the 3am fridge raiding after that dream you keep having, the one where Hampton are catching us and all we have to do is fall over the line, but they’re catching us fast and we’re so close, but then they’re right beside us and the line is sooooo close, and then we wake up sweating and needing to find a plausible reason our various other halves might buy as to why there’s a huge wet patch on the mattress. Just me? Oh. I suppose that makes me a bigger man for admitting it…

The connection came back just in time to listen to some drab Killers effort (i dont have anything against The Killers per se, in fact the track itself ‘Andy, Your A Star’ is pretty good… for The Killers) which was thankfully was cut off halfway through by the start of the second half. Or so I thought. Knowing the score was 0-0 I was looking forward to a second half Dons onslaught culminating in a 65th minute Elliott Godfrey strike before Danny Kedwell settled the nerves in injury time. What I got was a very resigned sounding Mikey T describing the ball being kicked out of the ground, chatting to passers by, and his complete shock at a Kedwell effort that almost, almost managed to be on target. Before the whistle blew, the guy in the ‘studio’ tried to sign off on a positive note and failed, and the Killers kicked in. Just at the same time my Night Nurse did.

And yet I feel I missed out. I know if I had gone I wouldn’t have enjoyed myself. The chances of anyone I know going to a midweek game, let alone one outside the travelcard zones, were pretty low and thats before I factored in I don’t actually know that many people who would describe themselves as Hardcore Wimbledon Fans. In fact I’m the only one. Which makes me pretty unique in my social circle. Its what makes me the Anonymous Don. So I would have boarded the train from work in Esher, and had to endure a tightly packed cross city train. With my sinuses exploding and my throat drier than a Year 7 disco, I would undoubtedly have infected several hundred commuters with a Proper Cold Virus, perhaps single handedly wiping millions off the economy due to the forthcoming sick days they would take. Oh well. Fuck ’em I say. You take a train, you take your chances. At least I would have got to see Clarence Park, which I’m realiably informed is a Real Non-League Ground. The first half would have picked me up. I can get excited by even the dullest first half, perhaps I would have sent some text messages to the wife or random friends, which would have been more for my own benefit in writing this match report more than any genuine desire of the receiver to see The Dons take the points. Half time would have been spent reading the programme and catching up on other half time scores, all of which had no relevance to us (except that Bognor-Bath result was a bit fucked; perhaps Bath arent as good as they looked a few weeks ago…)

Then as the second half took hold, boredom would have struck me. I would have had to find a wall or barrier of some kind as sickness took hold. If I made it to the end of the game without bailing early I would certainly have held it against the team. Simple facts such as our 6 point buffer zone would have meant nothing to me on the journey home. I’ll try to blame it  the uneven karma in this particular Universe which leads absolute wankers to become multi-millionaires whereas good innocent people have to make do with unending suffering, such as supporting the Dons. I jest of course. But I would have fallen asleep on the train home waking up suddenly just as the train pulled into the station, my bleary eyes registering the station sign and the slow dawning realisation that I should have got off at Kingston when I was in fact at Sunbury.

I think its fair to say work would have been a bitch on Wednesday after all that. Instead, although extremely disappointed, I could take comfort in knowing I was comfortable on my sofa at home, supping natures best remedy to any illness or disappointing result against lower ranked opposition, which is anything containing alcohol. Which includes mouthwash and aftershave, although I was actually drinking white wine. And to look on the bright side I might get another chance to visit Clarence Park for a league game next year if our form (and Trumptons) carries on as it is.

No match report would be complete without an Anonymous Verdict. And todays is this; Come on Terry. Come on you boys in blue and yellow. Come on fellow Dons fans. Let’s get our heads up. We’ve been fucked over too many times by the village boys down the road, let’s not let them get one final tortuous final blow in before they inevitably one day disappear into oblivion. You did it in that glorious first few weeks of the season. You havent been beaten in 17 games, and you blew away Chelmsfords title challenge while doing so. Lets make sure the next time we piss the bed it’s down to the champagne and endless shots come 23rd April in celebration of the title.

Just me again?


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