Not with a bang but a Shrimper

The game: Southend United v. Wycombe Wanderers.
The ground: Wembley Stadium.
The conditions: appropriate to the start of the great British summer; positively dismal.

My first season in the lower leagues was coming to a close and so, on pure impulse, I decided last week to treat myself to one last, luxurious outing at the end of the campaign. Poring over final fixtures of the footballing calendar, I settled upon the League Two play-off final between the ‘Shrimpers’ of Southend United and the ‘Chairboys’ of Wycombe Wanderers – the venue none other than Wembley Stadium. Come Saturday morning, my overexcitement was starting to worry my loved ones. “What do they know?!” I thought, as I stepped out of the front door. Completely nude bar my Southend-Wanderers half-scarf, I knew this was going to be a great day out.

Okay, yes, that last part is an exaggeration for comic effect. I would never wear a half-scarf. Still, I was very excited; with Southend and Wycombe having both finished the regular season on eighty-four points – the former formidable defensively, the latter with more by way of goals – I had a strong feeling that this would be a match of fine margins, a game replete with tension and tightly-fought drama from the get go. Arriving at Wembley Park, catching sight of the stadium’s iconic arch, my anticipation only grew. It was then temporarily diminished by the looped chanting of the Irn Bru-sponsored ‘Bru Are Ya!’ bridge, the giant signs along Wembley Way that warned the gathering League Two crowds against ‘persistent standing’ and the bitterly acrimonious process of collecting tickets. All that horror over, I went back to enjoying myself.


Though I’m sure every seat in the house had a sweet view, mine in the second tier of the Wycombe end was quite exceptional. As I settled down five minutes before kick off, yellow balloons and blue paper aeroplanes were already filling the air below; songs from both sets of fans just about blotted out the Alan Partridge-esque interjections from the hype man on the tannoy. Suddenly, the on-pitch pyro flared. The teams were led out to a thunderous roar. Phil Brown and Gareth Ainsworth took their places in the technical areas. The whole thing started to feel legitimately bloody epic.


I was brought back down to earth by the most League Two start to proceedings imaginable. From the kick off, after literally six seconds, Southend midfielder Will Atkinson clattered Wycombe counterpart Sam Saunders – the latter had to be substituted only three minutes into the game. This may have set a rather rudimentary precedent for the first half, yet there were several good chances for both sides to take an early lead. In the fifth minute, a looping cross from Chairboy Hogan Ephraim caused chaos in the Southend box; Shrimpers’ left back Ben Coker made the crucial clearance, but the ball could have gone anywhere. Ten minutes later, after significant Southend pressure at the other end, defender Cian Bolger worked a free header from a corner; he belted just past the upright, much to Wanderers’ relief.

In the twenty-second, Southend had the ball in the back of the net; another free leap in the area was afforded to long-serving Shrimper Barry Corr, and the striker planted a beautiful header into the top left. Unfortunately for him, this was disallowed for a pretty blatant shove by Bolger on Chairboys’ centre back Alfie Mawson in the build up. A chorus of boos rang out from the Southend fans, only silenced when Wycombe striker Paul Hayes made the Southend net bulge not two minutes later – this was ruled out for a narrow offside.

After that, the rest of the first half was very, very bitty. Wycombe had a couple of good opportunities around the fortieth-minute mark, Hayes seeing a low shot saved at the feet of Southend keeper Daniel Bentley before midfielder Sam Wood sent a twenty-yard curler inches over the crossbar. Apart from that, it was all robust fouls, even endeavour and punted free kicks. The break came with the game goalless. Both sides had plenty of room to improve.

It took a while longer, but improve they did. Though it was much the same up until the seventieth minute – the Shrimpers had the best chance of this period, Corr forcing an acrobatic save from young Chairboys’ stopper Alex Lynch with a firm header from five yards – the tempo was hugely upped with full time looming. In the seventy-fifth, Wycombe should have opened the scoring; a rare one-touch passing move on the edge of the Southend box allowed Hayes to burst into the left side of the area but, with a great sight of goal, his shot at the far corner was too close to Bentley – the keeper made the save. A flurry of Wycombe efforts followed, but it was their opponents who should have struck next; in the seventy-ninth, Shrimpers’ substitute striker Joe Pigott thrashed just wide from ten yards.

Wycombe had a last chance to snatch a win in regulation time, centre half Aaron Pierre with a bullet header which was tipped over superbly by Bentley late on. Despite the overdue flourish, the ninetieth minute ticked past without a score for either side. The extra time tension ramped up. The Chairboys’ paper planes collected by the side of the pitch like some sort of bright blue aviation graveyard. A bad omen, perhaps.

It certainly didn’t look a bad omen for Wycombe when, four minutes after the restart, they went one-nil up. Wanderers’ striker Aaron Holloway won a free kick twenty-five yards out, just to the right of goal. Left-back Joe Jacobson stepped up, then bent a gorgeous shot onto the underside of the crossbar – and in off the diving Bentley’s back. The Chairboys went wild, half of Wembley erupting in jubilation. A stony silence descended over the Shrimpers. Now could the Chairboys sit tight?

The answer was, well, astounding. Wycombe defended valiantly for the rest of extra time. In the hundred-and-fifteenth minute, they could and certainly should have put the game to bed; Holloway burst through Southend’s desperately high line, went through one on one with Bentley and, with a couple of teammates in support, overplayed to the point that Coker got back and made an emphatic tackle to keep his team clinging on. Then, twenty seconds from the final whistle, as the Wycombe fans jumped and celebrated in glee, the game truly delivered on all the pre-match excitement. Southend attacked. The cross came in from the left. Corr headed down to Piggott. Piggott turned in the Chairboys’ box, unchallenged. He rifled a low shot into the bottom right. Equaliser. Mega scenes from the Shrimpers. A low murmur of anguish around me.

So it went to penalties. The teams stretched out along the halfway line. Southend were up first.

The heroic Joe Piggott made the long walk. A moment’s hesitation. Scored.

Wycombe’s Peter Murphy was up next. To the keeper’s left. Scored.

Then it was the turn of the man with the crucial tackle, Ben Coker. Saved! Lynch had done it!

Alfie Mawson scored. Wycombe were ahead.

Ryan Leonard tucked away for Southend, Paul Hayes for Wycombe.

Jack Payne kept the Shrimpers within touching distance, pinging home.

Matt Bloomfield trudged forward for Wanderers’ fourth. Bentley got a hand to it! Screams of Southend relief!

The tension was now unbearable. Seven more penalties were taken, all converted. Southend now led seven-six.

Sam Wood stepped up to take Wycombe level once more.

Bentley stopped him.

The Southend players raced wildly from the touchline, arms outstretched toward their disbelieving keeper. The Wycombe players and supporters crumpled alike. A last minute equaliser, then the cold calculation of spot kicks. Southend had calculated the better, and now the noise of primal joy reverberated around Wembley, cutting through the total hush amongst the stricken Chairboys – the fans who had come so close.

Southend will play League One football next season, while Wanderers will have to regroup and challenge once more come August; keep their squad and management together and, despite this cruel loss, they should be in a good position to do so. As for The Luxury Fan, there is no telling what highs and lows future football will bring. To make an educated guess, however, the lows will probably involve drinking Bovril on a frozen terrace in mid-December. Just a guess, that.

Result (AET): Southend United 1 (7) Wycombe Wanderers 1 (6).
My MoM: Joe Piggott. Lively from the moment he came on, took his penalty well. Oh, and scored a leveller with half a minute to go.
Best fans: anyone who persistently stood. Take that, Wembley.

Not with a bang but a Shrimper

Gate expectations

The game: Hendon v. Margate.
The ground: Earlsmead Stadium.
The conditions: nice and hot; reminded me that I must book a mini break.

A season’s hard slog. The elation of victories, the bitter taste of defeats. Forty-six sapping league fixtures played each. A tough play-off semi-final overcome. Through it all, through every high and low, Hendon and Margate had been working toward a single purpose. That purpose was to win this match, the Ryman Premier play-off final, and gain promotion to the prestigious Conference South. This was the climax of their respective campaigns. Now, at this late and momentous hour, only one club could triumph.

With 1,228 fans rammed into the Earlsmead – Margate’s impressive travelling contingent included – the atmosphere befitted the occasion; the Gate’s Blue & White Army and Hendon’s Green equivalent assembled behind the goals before kick off, supporters jostling for space on the sun-soaked terraces and rivalling each other with songs, drums and air horns from the off. The home section of the ground had most cause to be confident pre-match; as they had been in the semi-final, the long-unbeaten Greens were certainly favourites to win out. However, the away fans showed no signs of anxiety as the players walked out onto the pitch. The roar from the Margate end was ear-splitting. The contest was about to begin in earnest.

For the first ten minutes, neither side was particularly fluent; Margate midfielder Charlie Allen did have a good chance in the fifth minute – firing over the crossbar from ten yards – yet it was an otherwise cautious start to proceedings. In the twelfth minute, Gate striker Ryan Moss was booked for a traditional non-league tackle on Oliver Sprague; some puffed out chests and insistent pushing followed, suggesting things might be about to flare up a little. All the same, nobody could have predicted what was to happen next.

In the fifteenth, Hendon forward Aaron Morgan tussled with Gate right back Tambeson Eyong over an innocuous middle-third ball. Morgan seemed to put in a robust challenge in the tangle of legs, Eyong going down hard. The referee was surrounded by both sets of players. He hesitated, then produced the straight red card. Morgan’s hands went to his head. Devastation.

This decision seemed a bit harsh to me, though my position was perhaps not the best; whether it was objectively justified or not, it’s bound to divide fan opinion for years to come. Either way, it certainly gave Margate the momentum. Profiting from the extra man on the overlap, the Gate’s attackers started to bombard the Greens’ net with crosses and shots. In the twenty-first minute, full back Sam Rents saw a stinging effort desperately blocked. Five minutes later, with Hendon’s back four overworked and overstretched, a scuffed clearance fell to Allen just outside the box. His half volley was curling away from Greens’ keeper Ben McNamara, yet somehow the man between the home sticks managed to claw it to temporary safety. Still, there was little respite. The Gate kept on coming.

Margate midfielder Kane Wills had two long-range drives at goal around the thirtieth-minute mark. McNamara saved both. In the thirty-fourth, Eyong proved himself indifferent to the boos from the sidelines as he cut in from the right and unleashed a low stinger toward the near post. McNamara saved again. For a while, with the keeper in such fine fettle, it felt as if Hendon’s goal might just hold out against the prolonged Blue & White assault. Then, in the fortieth minute, Margate finally broke the home side down.

It took a beautiful team move to do so. First Wills played a neat pass to wide man Lewis Taylor on the left flank. Taylor in turn sent striker Freddie Ladapo rampaging his way into the left side of the area. Beating a couple of markers, Ladapo cut a clean cross across the face of goal. This was met by the waiting Moss. With several Hendon defenders converging on him, he turned on his ankle and popped the ball into the bottom right. Absolute madness amongst the Margate fans. One-nil.

The Gate could have doubled their lead on the stroke of half time; Taylor burst toward goal, this time from the right, but his shot was saved by McNamara – as were a couple of follow ups from Moss and Ladapo. Greens’ centre back Charlie Goode eventually cleared, and that was the last significant act of the first forty-five. The two sides went back to the dressing rooms with very different prospects. Hendon would have to do something drastic after the break to change theirs.

To their great credit, the ten men gave absolutely everything to find a leveller in the second half. Getting hold of the ball themselves, they began to match Margate across the pitch. Their newfound impetus almost paid off in the fifty-second minute, midfielder Lee O’Leary latching onto a long free kick in the away area before snapping a shot at goal; this was blocked a couple of yards out. The Gate were largely restricted to pot shots in reply, though Rents soon sent one mid-range whistler just past the upright.

Hendon continued to battle, but they struggled to make space for themselves; it took fifteen minutes of hard-fought hustle before they created another clear-cut opportunity. This opportunity was a good one, however. In the sixty-ninth, Dave Diedhiou sliced through the middle of the park before rolling the perfect pass to Leon Smith five yards out. Much to the home supporters’ dismay, the tightly-marked Smith could only blast over the crossbar. There wouldn’t be many better chances than that.

Smith continued to cause Margate’s defence problems, especially so in the seventy-seventh when it took a crucial hooked clearance from Charlie Wassmer to stop the Greens’ fourteen from going through one on one. Even so, the last good chance of the game fell to fellow substitute Tony Taggart. In the eighty-sixth, a long Hendon free kick was pumped forward in desperation. Taggart seized upon the ball as it bobbled in the crowded goalmouth. His shot was half blocked, half saved a yard from the line. The clearance was made. Margate played shrewdly to the corners. Time ticked away. The final whistle went.

Margate’s fans charged onto the pitch to celebrate with the jubilant players, while Hendon’s fans and staff looked on dejectedly. It was a cruel end to the season for the hosts, especially having gone so long undefeated. Nonetheless, the Gate capitalised on the day. They happily join Maidstone in the Conference South. Hendon remain a Ryman Premier side. For now.

Result: Hendon 0 Margate 1.
My MoM: Ben McNamara (Hendon). Could not have done more to keep Margate out. The scrambling triple save just before half time a particular highlight.
Best fans: the Gate’s Blue & White Army. A significant portion of Margate’s total population in attendance. Overjoyed at the close, and rightly so.

Gate expectations

Police, Police, Police, let me get what I want

The game: Hendon v. Metropolitan Police.
The ground: Earlsmead Stadium.
The conditions: warm but moist; just the way I like my pistachio slices.

Finally. It was a rainy Thursday evening in Harrow and – long after its original scheduling – Hendon’s Ryman Premier play-off semi-final was about to take place. The postponement, owing to the FA and Ryman League’s prevarication in docking points from potential opponents Enfield Town, was entirely unnecessary and unwelcome for the sides involved; likewise, Enfield’s last-minute punishment for an administrative error dating back to January made for a truly cruel end to the campaign for their management, players and fans alike. Nonetheless, wrangle ended, here the long-awaited play off was. The Greens were to play Metropolitan Police for a place in the final. The pre-match anticipation was plain.

In the few weeks since the end of the regular season Met Police had triumphed in the Surrey Senior Cup; with Hendon crowned London Senior Cup winners just a day later, this game was a straight fight between two clubs with a fresh taste for winners’ medals. Having finished second in the league standings, Hendon had to be the firm favourites before kick off. Still, I had a sneaking suspicion that the Met would be very tricky adversaries. As it was, my suspicion was quickly proved right.

The away side made a fast start. After only a couple of minutes, physical Met wide man Bradley Hudson-Odoi won a long ball to the left of the area before squaring to midfielder Charlie Collins ten yards out; he fired narrowly wide. Five minutes later, after a little spell of Hendon pressure, the Met carved out another good opportunity. Joe Turner made a strong run through the middle of the park, eventually teeing up fellow forward Jake Reid on the edge of the box. He thumped a shot straight at Greens’ stopper Ben McNamara. Saved. Held.

Come the eleventh minute, it was the home side’s turn to go close. Hendon striker Aaron Morgan went on a strong run of his own only to be brought down twenty yards from goal. Andre Da Costa – something of a free kick specialist – stood over the ball. He then curled it onto the top of the crossbar. The terraces gasped.

It was shaping up to be an even and open game, both teams playing with plenty of offensive ambition. It was, however, the Greens’ defence which made the first slip up. In the seventeenth, as they attempted to usher the ball out of their area, Hendon defenders Charlie Goode and Sam Flegg got their feet horribly mixed up; Joe Turner nipped in and won the ball, before seemingly being tripped by Flegg. With no decision given, Turner leapt up and fired at goal. His shot was blocked in a tangle of bodies. The referee then signalled for a penalty – whether for the trip or for a handball was unclear.

Collins took the spot kick, stroking in to McNamara’s left. One-nil to the Met. As the Hendon fans behind the goal made their heartening voices heard, it was up to the hosts to come back at the visitors. This was no easy task; the away side were tenacious from front to back, Hudson-Odoi and Reid particularly impressive in their energetic harassment of the Greens’ defence.

That said, Hendon did manage to gradually wrest away their opponents’ momentum. A few imposing tackles from Goode – atonement for his earlier error – stabilised the back four. It was Goode who then thumped a long ball forward for Morgan in the thirty-first minute; the Greens’ number nine set off on a direct run before unleashing a stinging shot at goal – this was deflected over the bar by the Met’s ironically-named defender Billy Crook.

The corner produced Hendon’s equaliser. Sam Murphy put in a great delivery. Casey Maclaren leapt highest amongst the seething mass of defenders. He belted a header into the back of the net. The crowd erupted. The Green Army’s klaxons blared.

The Met did have several good chances to go back ahead before the break. In the thirty-seventh minute, Hudson-Odoi got around Flegg before releasing Reid to the left of the box; the Met striker galloped at goal but – faced with an ever-narrowing angle – shot straight at a relieved-looking McNamara. Turner volleyed wide after a corner was only half cleared a couple of minutes later. Hudson-Odoi then got a shot in himself, again making space on the left before stinging McNamara’s palms from five yards. The resulting corner was cleared. A few probing home attacks later, and a well-fought half came to an end.

It was hard to predict which side might score next but, once the second half was underway, it didn’t take long to find out. Only two minutes in, Murphy sent another sweet corner delivery into the Met box. This was shanked away, but the ball was collected by Da Costa just outside the area. From there, he sent a sumptuous curler rippling past away keeper Stuart Searle. Cries of ‘Gary McCann’s Green & White Army’ filled the wet night sky. Dreamland for Hendon.

After that, the game settled down into a pattern of anxious Met pressure and lightning counterattacks from the Greens. Though the away team did go close in the fifty-fourth through midfielder Nikki Ahamed – his low shot was safely pushed out by McNamara – this dynamic played into Hendon hands. The home opportunities were numerous from here on out. In the fifty-seventh, Oliver Sprague broke into the box and curled a shot past the far post with the outside of his boot. Morgan and Ibe both went close. Then, in the sixty-sixth minute, Murphy broke away on the right before putting Morgan through one on one. The latter’s first shot looped over Searle and was scrambled off the line. Morgan then followed up with an angled drive toward the roof of the net. Searle stuck out a hand to save.

Ten minutes more like this, and things were made very difficult for the Met. Defender Rob Bartley was sent off for clumsily bringing down Da Costa as he bore down on Searle’s goal from thirty yards; Bartley may well have been the last man, but whether or not this was a clear goalscoring opportunity was up for debate.

The ten men did have the ball in the back of the net in the eighty-fifth, but the goal was chalked off for a robust foul on McNamara. Then came a pretty unambiguous red card decision. Perhaps put off by the persistent klaxon parping behind him, Searle rushed off his line and fisted the ball away from the onrushing Murphy – a yard outside the box. He duly got his marching orders. The nine men saw off a few more Hendon attacks, but the home side were now happy to keep possession. Before long, the final whistle went.

A highly eventful game ended with Hendon through to the final; despite the last forty-five going in the Greens’ favour, it had been a damned difficult game for them – one in which the Met had certainly done themselves proud. The Greens will now entertain Margate at the Earlsmead after the Kentish side narrowly beat Dulwich Hamlet in the corresponding fixture. The winner of that game will go on to entertain in the Conference South next season. I’ll be watching. May the best side win.

Result: Hendon 2 Metropolitan Police 1.
My MoM: Hudson-Odoi was excellent in the first half, Charlie Goode didn’t put a foot wrong after his early error, but the accolade goes to Andre Da Costa. That finish.
Best fans: Hendon fans. I really should not find ninety minutes of klaxon distraction funny. But I do.

Police, Police, Police, let me get what I want

I Wood do anything for love (but I won’t do that)

The game: Boreham Wood v. Whitehawk.
The ground: Meadow Park.
The conditions: mild and refreshing, just the way I like my craft ales.

On last visiting Meadow Park, I was one of perhaps 200 spectators – home and away – dispersed through the ground. It was rainy. It was February. Boreham Wood played out a tight nil-nil with Concord Rangers. A modest day of football, all in all.

The contrast with the day of the Conference South play-off final couldn’t have been more marked. Over 2,000 fans were packed into the ground, including a couple of hundred raucous, joyful Whitehawk Ultras. As the sun peeked reluctantly through the clouds, the Wood and Whitehawk prepared to play the most important match of their respective seasons – one which would elevate the victor to the heady heights of the newly-branded National League. The expectation was colossal, the atmosphere febrile. This was the big one.

Some Wood supporters got a bit overexcited at kick off, with several flares set off in the crush of the home terraces barely thirty seconds into the game; one of these ended up on the pitch itself, scorching the turf as a steward tried tentatively to flick it away without giving himself a nasty burn. At the other end, the Whitehawk Ultras blew on vuvzelas, banged a big kettle drum and jumped in unison; the away end was a whir of red scarves and pogoing supporters from the off, all of them singing ‘We have more fun than you!’ at the tops of their voices. They did indeed look like they were having fun.

If the off-field antics were as wild as they could get, the action on the pitch was somewhat more restrained. There were no chances of note in the first fifteen, both sides playing disciplined, well-drilled stuff; Whitehawk attempted a bit of intricate one-touch football, Wood tried to be more direct, yet neither side showed too much threat early on. The first opportunity came in the seventeenth minute, falling for Whitehawk defender Osei Sankofa; a long free kick found him climbing highest in the box, but he could only nod a bouncing header down past the post.

The home side came back at their Brightonian opponents straightaway. In the nineteenth, stocky Wood striker Junior Morais fired straight at Whitehawk keeper Craig Ross from fifteen yards; Ross made a comfortable save. Five minutes later, as the visiting Ultras went totally spare singing ‘Let’s all have a party!’, Morais took down a long ball on the left and set up league top scorer Lee Angol just outside the area; he in turn squared to Sam Cox, who thrashed well over from a good position. The travelling fans were much relieved. Their party continued.

They had cause to be relieved several more times before the end of the half. Wood’s attack, spearheaded by Angol, started to ramp up their efforts. In the thirty-fourth, Angol and wide man Graeme Montgomery combined in midfield before the former cracked twenty-yard whistler just wide of the upright. Not long after that, Angol charged through the centre of the park before winning a foul from Whitehawk’s Marvin Hamilton – this at the cost of a caution. Wood’s rampant nine stepped up to take the free kick, then whipped a curling shot an inch over the crossbar. So close. So far.

Angol made one more chance before the break, galloping past three markers and into the box before firing wide of the near post. The referee then blew up, the game still scoreless. The Whitehawk defenders took a breather. I ate a homemade prawn sandwich. It felt as if the match might be gradually edging Wood’s way.

As the second half got underway, it became clear that the outlook wasn’t quite as simple as that. Whitehawk’s passing play seemed much the sharper, while they created a great chance after only four minutes; Nick Arnold whipped in a cross for front man Danny Mills, yet he couldn’t direct his free header on target. After ten minutes of controlled possession, the visitors should then have opened the scoring. Midfielder Sam Deering jinked his way about the pitch and up to the right side of the box, dragging the Wood defenders with him. He then sent striker Jake Robinson clear on the left. Robinson shot across the face of goal, but too close to Wood keeper James Russell. Saved.

This would soon come back to haunt Steven King’s side. In the sixty-seventh minute, Angol’s powerful running won Wood another free kick right in front of goal. Wood’s nine stepped up once more. This time he fired low. The wall parted. The bottom right bulged. One-nil!

Once the stewards had wrestled several more billowing flairs off the rejoicing Wood Army, Whitehawk were then faced with twenty minutes in which to draw level. They almost did so in the seventy-fourth, Argentine midfielder Sergio Torres chesting a long ball down for Robinson – this time he could only leather a shot into the hoardings. Then, in the eightieth minute, Whitehawk’s John Paul Kissock skipped into the home area. He was brought down in a tangle with Wood full back Ben Herd. Sam Deering took the penalty. He slammed it in. One-all, and the Ultras leapt for joy. The visitors had equalised. Now could they snatch the win?

The answer was: no, not quite. In the final minute of regulation time, Deering played a free kick short to Robinson on the left. He slashed a low cross through the box. Sankofa got a toe on it, a mere five yards out. Somehow, the ball was sliced over the bar. The Wood Army winced.

Cruelly, Whitehawk were once more punished for a missed opportunity. The game went to extra time, and two minutes in Wood went back ahead; Angol glanced a header to the feet of Morais, and the number ten hooked the ball through a crowded box and into the net. The terraces exploded. Would the Wood see it out?

Indeed they would. The rest of extra time saw Ian Allinson’s team defend with all their usual commitment, while a series of niggly fouls from both sides slowed things right down – much to Wood’s benefit. Whitehawk had two opportunities through Deering before, seven minutes from the end, substitute Ahmed Abdulla arrowed a screaming shot agonisingly close. Despite plenty of endeavour, that was it. Cries for promotion rose all around me.

The final whistle went, and the customary pitch invasion commenced; Whitehawk’s Craig Ross did appear to take a knee to the back in all the commotion, an unfortunate and unpleasant moment in an otherwise cheerful home outburst. The away side may have been despondent at the last, yet their Ultras stayed bounding about, chanting and lauding the players long after the finish. There was certainly lots to lift Whitehawk spirits. Still, it’s Boreham Wood who go up.

Result (AET): Boreham Wood 2 Whitehawk 1.
My MoM: Lee Angol (Boreham Wood). Forceful and direct. Scored one goal, assisted another. Sharp haircut.
Best fans: the Whitehawk Ultras. Enviable levels of fun. Minus mark for vuvuzelas.

I Wood do anything for love (but I won’t do that)

Jeffinitely, maybe

The game: Peckham Town v. Bexley.
The ground: The Menace Arena.
The conditions: erratic and unpredictable, just like myself after eight pints of Veltins.

It was the evening before Election Day, and a crucial question was about to be put to the British people. That question was: who is going to win this season’s Kent County League Division One West title? First-placed Halstead United? Second-placed Bexley, level on points with the leaders? Or third-placed Peckham Town, only a point behind both? With Peckham and Bexley about to contest the last match of the campaign at The Menace Arena, the answer would soon be apparent.

As the Menace Ultras arrived in unprecedented numbers and started singing about their dislike of Dulwich Village, their contempt for Long Lane and their approval of Bryan Hall’s considerable height – it’s not often that the club chairman gets his own tune – Peckham kicked off on the Arena’s uphill slope. Despite a touch of panic in the Menace’s back line during the earliest exchanges, it was the home side that took the lead in the eighth minute; brawny wide man Michael Jeff won a corner, delivered the ball in and found the head of defender Michael Keen at the near post – he nodded in.

The goal preceded some more good chances for Peckham. In the twelfth minute, front men Rotimi Oladunni and Schaveize Williams combined well just outside the area; the latter fired wide from fifteen yards. A minute later, a good pass from Menace midfielder Ali Amisu set Matthew Cusack away on the right side of the box; he also dragged his low effort wide.

Bexley should have equalised moments afterward. A long ball forward broke for striker Tom Peck ten yards out; his driven shot was saved brilliantly by Peckham stopper Tope Okeowo. Josh Armfield followed up on the rebound, but Okeowo made the double save at his near post. The resulting corner was cleared. The keeper had kept Peckham ahead.

After that, the half settled down into a well-fought midfield wrangle. Bexley midfielder Joe Neil put himself about quite a bit, resulting in several bouts of mild chest shoving; Menace full back Bolaji Olatunde was just as up for the contest, impressing as he battled all comers out on the right. The Menace did create a couple of half chances before the break, Cusack, Williams and Taiwo Ikponosa firing high or wide one after the other. There were no more goals to be had, however; the referee blew up at one-nil, before everyone desperately tried to find some information on the Halstead game. All attempts were unsuccessful. The Kent County League Division One West needs an app, or something.

The beginning of the second half was somewhat choppy. Peckham nearly scored via a forty-ninth minute free kick, won by Jeff after some powerful running through the middle of the park; Jeff took it himself, saw his shot deflected to Williams, then could only watch on as his teammate smashed wide of the near post. The next ten minutes constituted a succession of fouls on both sides, before Bexley’s Josh Armfield pinged a decent attempt just over the crossbar from fifteen yards.

In the sixty-second, Peckham let a great chance to double their advantage slip. Jeff charged up the right before cutting inside and bamboozling the Bexley defence; he then played a perfect pass to Williams, who found himself completely clear on the left. Bearing down on away goalie Sam Armfield, his timing was just a split second out. His attempted chip was too close to the keeper. Saved. Sighs of relief on the visitors’ bench.

These became howls of anguish within five minutes. The chance seemed to re-energise the Menace, who suddenly got on top of the game. After a cool dispossession on the left, Peckham’s Dwayne Simpson dribbled down the touchline before leathering a cross over the Bexley back four; Williams rushed through, controlled and – despite futile cries of offside from his opponents – tucked away to Sam Armfield’s left. Two-nil, and the home side looked to have won the tenacious tussle.

Bexley did give the Menace a scare in the seventy-fourth, though it was entirely of the home side’s own making. An innocuous away corner was floated into the box, before Lukmon Mojeed gave the officials a decision to make with a rather obvious handball. The decision was a penalty. Alex Legge stepped up and slotted it home. Two-one.

To the relief of the anxious Ultras, this only revitalised the Menace once more. Williams stepped up his play, bullying the Bexley centre backs, while Jeff continued to influence the game from the wing. Indeed, it was his influence that eventually wrapped things up for good; in the eighty-fourth minute, he traded passes with Amisu on the right before playing a sweet cross-field ball to substitute Sulyman Bah – Peckham’s number seven zoomed to the left of goal before rocketing a shot across Sam Armfield and into the back of the net. Celebrations with the Menace faithful ensued. For all they knew, Peckham might have won the league.

At the final whistle, it sadly transpired that this wasn’t the case. Phoenix Sports had ceded three points to Halstead, meaning that the latter ended the season as champions; Bryan Hall shared commiserations with the fans, before the players came over to dance, sing and generally have a jolly with the soon-cheery Ultras. The joy was temporarily marred by some unnecessary and vaguely homophobic jibes from a couple of Bexley players, but their comments were mainly ignored in favour of toasting a good season for the Menace – and a second-placed finish at Bexley’s expense. On the whole, another top game at the Menace Arena. Next season, top spot.

Result: Peckham Town 3 Bexley 1.
My MoM: Michael Jeff (Peckham Town). Two assists. Jeffinitely the main man.
Best fans: the Menace Ultras. The Kent County League Division One West has never known anything like it.

Jeffinitely, maybe