Sheer Agony

Here we bloody go again. I’m going to keep this short and not very sweet as I won’t want to depress to you more than a Labour tax policy. But it’s that time of the year once again when I dust off the tin foil trophy, make sure my rattle is well greased & lubricated, my scarf is freshly pressed and there’s plenty of starch in my shorts as I once more spin you a yarn about a now seemingly forgotten part of Sutton’s history.

And yet I am always amazed that come match day there is a few of us hard-core fans that still make the effort for these. It’s getting a bit like the Remembrance Sunday walk past at the Cenotaph as there are fewer and fewer of us old stagers that still think we may actually give the trophy a go with every passing year. Even I, the one true champion of the Surrey pot in these parts, these days mostly just look to see who’s going to embarrass us and defeat the pre-pubescent kids that we throw at them.

But let’s face it, our first team isn’t exactly setting the world alight at the moment either. So the eternal hope is just about keeping the fire going. And as I am unable to attend the away games these days and rarely even sample the slightly overpriced fizzy alcoholic Ribena at home these days, I can definitely stay that I am 100% against sober football. As an aside, I actually realised the other day that my car is as old as when we last lifted this trophy.

It’s the rare article as it’s a a fiver on the gate, no barcodes or fuckin’ QR’s or pre-bought bollocks tonight, as I am able to hand over that old outdated thing that is cash to a person and head into the ground. There is a smattering of us idiots in attendance, 4 Days, Dr Bell, Rax, The Firm Leader & even Mr X, who despite living the closest swore he wouldn’t be bothering. His excuse for the only reason for his attendance? “I wanted to go to Tesco’s, but some fucker has parked across my drive!”. Bang out of order that is, no manners some people. And beyond that, I’m gonna be pleading the fifth here.

Remarkably, there seem to be plenty of stewards for this match and that is especially visible considering that they have closed off nearly three quarters of the ground. We can’t even get behind either of the goals. Fuck knows why that was decided on, but maybe it’s just the way things are these days. God knows why we don’t do the old Palace shuffle and play these all away, must cost us a fortune to put ’em on.

Kerby, Lee, Reeves, Urpens, Eccleston, Moore, Edwards, Sheargold, Tume, Vorster, Trickett. Bench Warmers: Bell, Ruiz, Hepburn, Brian, Fennelow.

Sutton’s bambinos were to take on the bambinos of Sheerwater who looked to have 8 children and three supervising adults in their own line up. The traditional old head goalkeeper, a large centre back paring that consisted of a six footer and a man possibly related to one or two of the players as their grandad. I might very well be getting old at long last as the players are getting progressively younger and shorter with every passing season.

Sutton started the match very unlike the first team with them trying to attack Sheerwater and press down the wings and produce possibly more crosses into the box then I’ve seen all season combined. It was a simple tactic to get the ball to the wingers and have them attack. They even did away with the modern day oddity of having your defence in the box as you take a free kick. Fuckin’ weird tactic that.

So many balls were played into the box but without the final touch being applied that the worry was that Sutton were going to get caught out or would run out of steam like the first team seem to do. A goal finally did come though when a shot from young lad Sheargold had the keeper spill the ball into the path of Trickett who slotted the ball home. 1-0! It was the least we deserved and we could head in at halftime ahead.

Half-time was spent trying to find somewhere to smoke as the usual spot had of course been blocked off and we’re not allowed to do anything exciting these days. I even caught a look at a quiet burger bar and that got me randomly reminiscing of past flavours. The bacon baguette at Harrow, The pepper burger from Bath or even the cottage pie form Kiddie. Mmmm, making me hungry that is. If only we done something cheap and filling these days down the Lane.

The second half started with a banger as Sheerwater are straight back in the game as Sutton, being Sutton, are weakly dispossessed in the middle of the park. Except the fella takes one look to see Kerby off his line and BAM! Lobs him for the equaliser from about 40 yards out. Fair play fella, well deserved. We were so weak to lose the ball like that. But that’s football for you. Sutton were soon back in the thick of it as we continued to attack the empty Rec End with the same tactics as the first half. One of the many crosses was eventually helped into his own goal by Grandad at the back. To save his embarrassment we gave it Edwards instead. 2-1! Nailed on own goal though.

Gaps were starting to form in the Sutton defence and it seemed that the substitutions made us worse over time. The was seen when the left back position, once again like the first team, is our Achilles Heel and this is where some very poor defending had Sheerwater breakthrough and slot the ball home to once again punish woeful football from Sutton. The match would to and fro to the end and it was only at the death that Sutton had a couple of chances to snatch the by that point underserved victory.

Without the luxury of Extra time it was straight to penalties and the opportunity for some amateurish scoreboard actives to take place. Needless to say that it was not to be, as soon our first spot kick was saved by the grunting substitute goalkeeper. We held on to the end until the last penalty was smashed against the bar and Sheerwater slotted it home to taste victory against us once again.

I bid farewell to everyone and stagger off into the darkness back to my motor in front of Mr X’s drive, moping again about another lost opportunity. I genuinely believe that I will never see us put out a first team in this again, let alone win the damn thing. So there we have it. Another year done and another kick in the teeth for yours truly. I can’t help but think that something is amiss these days down the club. It’s not the same no more. I may even give the County Cup a swerve entirely next year. But then again, it might be our year next year, so maybe not…

Duke

Att. 125