SERVING WITH HONOUR : THE MAN WITH THE CLIPBOARD

 

Printed in the National League South game v Ebbsfleet United on Saturday 23rd August 2025  We won 2-0 in front 796

Football is so much more than just ninety minutes on the pitch. And that was no more in evidence than last Saturday at Arbour Park.

But let’s rewind to the week before. First game of the season. Tonbridge Angels away. WhatsApp and social media buzzing with places to meet, drink and be merry. For those of us who didn’t make any friendlies, its been three months since I set my sore eyes on the Rebel Rabble.

I can almost get the bus to the ground from the bottom of my street, the Brighton ones winding their way to Tunbridge Wells before a short hop on the train. I managed to find the greasiest spoon with no fancy coffee, one tooth customers – including the dogs - wipe down tables and friendly chatter. Better than the sour dough, sour faced fancy pants cafe up the road that wanted £97 for a doorstep cheese toastie. I sat in the pub opposite the station while Tonbridge Pride weaved its way to the Castle. Presumably not to ransack it.

Me and Gaz the Sandwich (Formerly known as Gaz the Postie) hopped in a taxi and after the usual quiz from security about various musical instruments - ‘just leave me alone I’m a Morris dancer’ we joined the Slough massive in the bar. With a virtual new team, you can’t help be apprehensive, especially as every week another club in our league seems to be taking over by a rich benefactor. But blimey how quick they’ve gelled. A feast of fast flowing, in your face, attacking football where everyone scratched their heads wondering how it ended 0-0 and not with 3 points for the Rebels. Still, this was really promising.

Next up Arbour Park. Social media was alive again but this time because the supporters team were taking on a Football Managers Creators team. I’m not into computer games, and each to his own, but I really can’t get my head round people watching other people playing computer games. Still, I’m sure a few question my sanity spending my weekends watching Slough. The organiser WhyCallum had formed a bond with the club, he’d even managed one Slough game, and this was the next collaboration.

Scott McNeish head of the McNeish Media dynasty was manager and asked me to come along. He’d thrown together a rag tag of players, where dads and sons rubbed shoulders while Caz the Physio put down her two pints and rubbed magic dust into injured players – some like Cameron the Drummer broken before a ball was even kicked. I’m not sure what I was expecting but this was great fun.

There was some interesting wild card rules, where the opposition manager could sub three of our players for 10 minutes and if Superman scored a goal it counted as two! Slough really grew into the game, Alfie got a hatrick then lost his hair – much to his mums horror. Captain Martin set a world record giving away 3 penalties in one game while Andy the Plumber thought it was walking football,...but to be fair did lay on what should have been an assist for a goal (right you owe me a couple of beers now mate). Victory was sweet and companies spend thousands on trying to get this type of bonding.

Now onto the real match, which ended up being one of the worst games of football I’ve seen for a long time. In stark contrast to last weeks energy this game never got going and we lost 1-0. Our supporters never got going either - which was no doubt not helped by half of them suffering from exhaustion after their supporters game. Then the terrible news filtered through about Mark Hunter. The Hunters have been a massive part of the Slough Town family for ever. I remember Marks mum serving me sweets in the hatch at Wexham Park, Leigh goes home and away (and had just played a blinder for the supporters) and manages the Ladies team. As for Mark, well he had done just about every job possible – from kitman, chair of the supporters trust to his current role as matchday secretary. The man with the clipboard. A permanent fixture who had done so much to keep our club running over many, many years.

New research highlights that football fans feel increasingly disconnected from the modern game. Over half (53%) believe that high ticket prices are diminishing their enjoyment of the sport, with a staggering 81% not considering matches as good value for money. The research, commissioned by LiveScore and conducted by YouGov Sport, revealed the Saturday 3pm kick-off remains a firm favourite across football fans, with 58% choosing it as their top preference of match time, when it is becoming ever rarer.

This is of course music to the ears of lower league clubs who offer something different – and in Sloughs case free season tickets to anyone who plays for the club at any level. My eldest commented on just how many children were at the game.

The supporters match raised over £2000 for MIND the mental health charity and in a world where so many feel lonely, struggle with mental health, spend too long on increasingly angry social media – a football club is somewhere to go; where you can belong. Where people meet, make new friends, sort out their problems. With yet another survey bashing Slough in the headlines; this one saying it is amongst one of the least connected communities in England, what Slough Town Football Club does really matters.

No where was this more evident than how that support for Leigh galvanised so quickly, to support him and the Hunter family as best we can.

So today we pay our respects at the game for a man who truly served the club he loved with honour. RIP Mark Hunter

FA CUP PRIDE

 

Printed in the National League South game v Hemel Hempstead Town Saturday 16th August 2025. First home game of the season. Lost 1-0 in front of 895

Everytime I’ve visited Seaford Town it’s because there’s been a drama. Neighbours getting hysterical over floodlights; being named the most boring football club in the country on Football Focus. And now this. The longest gap between games in FA Cup history. A whopping 114 years since they were last in the competition.

But this sort of drama doesn’t really represent Seaford – the town. Sure, Jordan the Queen of Punk trail blazer came from there, but its a tranquil place where the day-trippers come for the South Downs Way and spectacular views. It really doesn’t make the most of its expansive seafront which at one point had ambitions to rival Brighton. But the two places have taken very different paths. Today was Brighton Pride, which is hard to describe; think Glastonbury exploding into glitter balls across the whole city, where 300,000 jostle for some fun. Seaford meanwhile had to fight just to get the floodlights it desperately needed to climb up the footballing pyramid. There’s always a few moaning minnies who try to spoil it for the rest. All the usual arguments were wheeled out including the fact that promotion would bring bigger crowds and extra noise. Lewes Council turned the floodlights application down at first because they would be 
‘detrimental to local residential amenities.’ Excuse me, what about shared community amenities being good for everyone's health and well being? Even the misery guts, who could probably do with getting out a bit more and trying to make some friends.

Seaford the train is the end of the line, and some enterprising souls have made the most of the waiting rooms converting them into a watering hole – Steamworks. This is a smart move, where you can grab a coffee or a beer in a cosy setting that was heaving. Grabbing a beer is what some Tooting and Mitcham supporters were doing. Their game against AFC Varndeanians had been moved because the Varndeanians play at the Withdean stadium right opposite Brighton Pride – so it had been sensibly switched to Newhaven. I didn’t really get any sense from them how they had plummeted down the leagues into county football although they did remind me the last time Slough played Tooting they had knocked us out of the Cup. On the way back on the train I got chatting to Sutton United supporters who’d been at the game– this was becoming an Isthmian Friends Reunited holiday. I reminded them that the last time we met we won a first round cup penalty shoot replay – and a home tie with Gillingham.

Seaford the ground is called The Crouch which is in a park, next to swings, a bowling green and community garden. There’s no turnstiles but people guard the various park entrances on match days. The only cover, the seated stand is caged up at night I assume to stop any vandalism. They’ve teamed up with the local Long Man Brewery and with your programme you got a poster celebrating last years promotion to the Southern Combination Premier – and with that promotion, entry to the FA Cup.

Before the game, the Seaford chairman had posted “This isn't just a football match; it’s a celebration of years of hard work, commitment and community spirit. From the players on the pitch to the volunteers behind the scenes and of course you, our incredible fans and followers – this day belongs to all of you. We may be a small club from the South Coast, but we have a big heart and today we get to show everyone what Seaford Town Football Club is all about.”

So onto Seaford - the match. Their opponents Sutton Athletic aren't from Sutton, Surrey but a village in Kent and straight from the off looked a much stronger, powerful outfit. Bobbly pitches can ruin a game, and really this is where FA should be throwing resources at – getting playing surfaces sorted, rather than insisting on picky ground grading rules.

Even the Seaford manager admitted that Sutton were the better side – and then some – as they peppered the home sides goal, whose resolute defending, great goalkeeping alongside Suttons terrible aim kept it 0-0. Then as so often happens at these type of games, finally a decent through ball for a Seaford striker to latch onto, he’s tumbled over and the defender is sent off and the penalty on the 83rd minute well dispatched. 10 minutes later and history is made again with Seaford winning their first ever FA Cup football match.

These opportunities don’t come round often – although you don’t usually need to wait 114 years. But the crowd (a very decent 554), the beer and sweet sales, the buzz around the place, like a lively summer fete, made it feel like a real occasion with one local commenting to his mate that he’d bumped into so many old friends.

The FA Cup gained back some of its magic with the scenes of Crystal Palace supporters finally celebrating getting some silverware. Not that it ever lost its sparkle in the early rounds. Where dreams, ambitions even fortunes are made. And for Seaford Town – history.