DEVON HEAVEN

 

To be printed in the National League South game v Horsham Saturday 17^th October 2026

Everyone loves a trip to Torquay. It’s one of those football awaydays where you need to make a weekend of it. And Slough supporters do that and then some. I always go thinking we probably won’t come here again as surely they will get promoted. Their ground, their support, their history – they really shouldn’t be playing in what is effectively Division Six South, but here they are. Fighting it out with half the rest of this ambitious league, everyone trying to outspend and out foreign investor each other for a place in the promised land.

As you trundle along on the train, even the soil changes colour and you start entering a world of picture postcards. The AFC Wimbledon fans on their early morning trip to Plymouth said it was certainly more picturesque than going to Grimsby. Or Slough for that matter, and I reminded them of the time they beat us 9-0. Our worst season for points and goal difference in our history. We got clapped off by their fans and Hayden the Womble for our non stop singing and everyone seemed to want to buy us a drink in the bar afterwards. Would have been rude to say no.

My sightseeing was rather limited this time round, unless you count the seafront bus to the cheap-as-chips hotel and staring out of pub windows, curry houses and their lovely ground. James the Cowboy Boot got an upgrade to his room cos he knew one of the maids. Of course he did. Then Deano, Rick the Shutters and Andy the Plumber finally arrived and after some hotel bar beers we jumped in a taxi. Characters. Who doesn’t love 'em and we got a right one with this driver. A former roofer from Manchester he spent a couple of stretches in Strangeways for football violence and was now enjoying a more calmer life driving cabs.

Next up the pub by the ground. Torquay fans have always been good as gold, happy to chat football, even when on that one rare occasion we won here. There were protests out the ground, not cos we won, but because of their owners, who finally left with the manager that very same weekend. Always a drama following Slough.

We’ve eventually piled into their ground, where you can now bring in drinks to washdown your vertigo pills. It’s a steep £22 to get in and a steep view at the top of the stand, but it is very panoramic. Even our loane Leicester keepers mum and dad were there; he was injured but we managed to serenaded him on their phone. Alfie spent most of the game gaffer taping the drum – I think we need to set up a go fund page cos its now more tape than skin

We weathered a ropey 10 minute spell and then started playing some decent football without creating too many chances. And then the unbelievable happened - we scored a goal and went 1-0 up thanks to a penalty. That joy was short lived as they equalised two minutes later, but despite being a man down after a late first half red card, we were the better team. Eventually we run out of steam and Torquay racked up the goals. From afar it looked like another Slough capitulation. It was anything but. We didn’t stop singing and we clapped the team off, proud of their efforts. And then the inevitable started.

People who weren’t at the game started moaning. I mean football fans moaning isn’t exactly new - Torquay fans were doing it and they won 5-1 (mind you, they don’t look like the Torquay of recent seasons). Eventually a few people had enough – you weren’t at the bloody game, how the hell do you know how well we did or didn’t play? Like criticising a book after just reading the back cover. Or deciding you don’t like a film after watching a clip on Tik-Tok.

I didn’t expect anything from Torquay game. If I’m honest I don’t expect anything now from this season except the trap door. That way I won’t get too fed up – and if we do survive it will be one of the best feelings in the world.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t get behind the team and see if we can pull off the great escape. There’s plenty of points still to be played for. It’s only mid October

While football fanzines and the birth of social media were great at giving everyone a voice, it doesn’t mean you need to let the world know about your every thought. Of course we can be critical when things aren’t going our way or when decisions are made that we don’t agree with, but I reckon most of those thoughts about games and players can stay between mates. Social media has become a Russian bot cesspit. A moanfest, an echo chamber of perceived grievances, an algorithm of angriness, keeping us permanently on edge and shaking our fists at the clouds. No wonder peoples mental health is in decline.

Our season wont be decided by defeat in Torquay, but by games like today. And we know, when we stick together, make some noise we can help our team. Cos that’s what a supporter does right? And if you really need to vent after the game go and walk along the canal and shout at a swan. They won’t mind. Then go to bed and read a good book. You’re feel better for it in the morning.