YOU DONT KNOW WHERE YOUR GOING

Printed in the National League South game v Maidstone United Saturday 12^th March 2022  We beat the league leaders 2-1 in front of 883

Sometimes it can feel like your team hasn’t turned up or after a particularly poor performance you wished you’d got lost on the way. Other times going to football can leave you very geographically challenged.

Braintree on a cold wet February night isn’t the easiest of places to get to – but Mick and Rick took muppetry to a new level by instead turning up at Concord Rangers five days early. Doh! ‘Caravans to the left of me, Refinery’s to my right, Here I am, stuck on an Island with Rick’ sang Mick. They managed to get to Braintree by half time and we’re given as you would expect a warm welcome for their road to nowhere. Mind you after Saturdays postponement, another week night in Canvey awaits them again. It really is the glamour of being a football fan.

I could fill a book from our conference days when my cousin used to get us regularly lost. There was no SatNavs or mobile phones then – but in hindsight we should probably have familiarised ourselves with actual maps: ‘you sure you go across the Severn bridge to get to Telford?’ we joked as we ended up arriving at half time with one particularly smelly steward still trying to charge us full price to get in. We even managed to arrive half time again at Telford for the last game of the season which traditionally used to be silly hat day. I would like to say its because we were being cultured and familiarising ourselves with the place that gave birth to the industrial revolution. But we were just being useless and arrived shameful and donning Dunce caps.

Still its not just us. I don’t often get the supporters coach, mainly because they refuse to pick me up from Brighton, but as we sped past the Gainsborough turning on our way to a FA Cup 1^st round tie, I cursed under my breath: ‘Driver, you had one job.’ Even with SatNavs some people fail. No Sue, Worthing is not in Brighton. And no Phil, putting diesel in a car made for petrol is not a good idea if you want it to work properly and get you to Gosport.

Scott McNeish told me ‘He won’t thank me for this but Richard Taylor cycled to Burnham’s The Gore instead of Holloway’s Park. I had to go and pick him up!!’ Another supporter arrived late for an FA Cup away to Tooting and Mitcham. This was kind of understandable as he had gone to their old ground – one of the last of the big London non league grounds, now buried under houses. Except he admitted he had already been to the new Imperial Fields but had just forgotten. There was also a rumour that former Slough player and manager Darren Wilkinson once went to Leighton Buzzard rather than Leyton but that might just be an urban myth.

I got totally lost in the pouring rain one Tuesday evening trying to find Walton and Hersham's ground and arrived just before half time starving and soaked. I could only buy a burger bun with onions to eat and the game got called off before the second half started. I sat freezing waiting for the train back home questioning my sanity after seeing no football but feeling like I'd wet my pants.

But I still think I can trump all this stupidity. I once went to a Slough game away to Abingdon Town in the FA Cup 4th Qualifying Round in 1989. I hadn’t been to a match for ages, and Slough were playing in their away kit with Abingdon in yellow. I then spent the whole game not only keeping an eye on the floodlights that looked like they were about to blow over at any point, but thinking Slough were Abingdon! At the final whistle I couldn’t believe we’d lost a cup game to such lowly opposition and it wasn’t till me and my mate got back on the coach that it dawned on us that Slough had actually won. I think it was then I realised I needed glasses.

We all love football for these stories; for a bit of escapism and a laugh with mates but I don’t like being told that football and politics don’t mix. There’s no escaping the fact that if you’re rich enough to buy a football club then it will be no questions asked while the football authorities and supporters do moral somersaults to justify the background of people in charge.

No one in power in Britain has come out smelling of roses over Putin. And Chelsea are now in limbo now Abramovich has finally been sanctioned.

So I will leave you with this written by the UK Parliaments Intelligence and Security committee: “Russian influence in the UK is the new normal. Successive governments have welcomed the oligarchs and their money with open arms, providing them with a means of recycling illicit finance through the London ‘laundromat’ and connections at the highest levels with access to UK companies and political figures. This has led to a growth industry of ‘enablers’ including lawyers, accountants and estate agents who are – willingly or unwillingly – de facto agents of the Russian state.’

As we lurch towards World War III maybe we need to be a little more critical of who we support and not forgive people for crimes just because they are bank rolling our clubs and political parties. 

Unfortunately for the people of Ukraine that sentiment is already too late.