It had felt like a lifetime ago (1 month) since I’d last witnessed a Magpies game, or any football match for that matter. So naturally, when I saw the tweet from Eastbourne Borough, saying the game had passed a pitch inspection, coupled with our *ahem* excellent fortunes on the pitch we were buzzing for a day out on “The Sunshine Coast”.
As it does, the day got off to a dramatic start. Meeting Tom and Cam at 11am in the Spoons pub outside Victoria station and Vossy, the one who more-or-less came up with the initial plans for the day and had been going on about it all week, was nowhere to be seen or heard from. The amount of times we had to listen to his voicemail message grew tiresome and as we queued up at the ticket machine, low and behold the devil himself called and told us he was on his way, after “doing a Cam” and having overslept after a night out. Deciding to now get the later train, he had 40 minutes to get from Holloway to Victoria and fair play to the lad, he made it to the station with 8 minutes to spare. Meanwhile we went back to the pub for a quick snifter and a conversation about the intricacies of Russian porn.
We’d not even got into Sussex and the beers were flowing – as were some fine quotes: “I’ve got a good feeling about today. Either that or its the ten pints of San Miguel rattling around in my stomach from last night"
CM: “…He was apoletic.”
SV: “Cam, do you mean apoplectic?”
CM: “No, apoletic. It’s a mixture of anger and epilepsy.”
Arriving in Eastbourne to an epic hailstorm, we eventually made it to Priory Lane to witness some fine non-league action. The first half was a fairly even affair with Dorch playing against the wind and went in at half time, happy with 0-0. The beauty of non-league certainly isn’t the standard of football on the pitch, but the characters and the atmosphere that comes with it. Some Eastbourne fans certainly didn’t let us down when it came to entertainment, as a couple of their lot were seething at the polystyrene chip trays on the ground, assuming it was the 5 or so Dorch fans behind the goal who littered. Utter hilarity. We then proceeded to do our community service for the day before it kicked off.
We encountered a minor scare when Warren Byerley fell and was down with, according to Cam, a definite ligament injury. But in a superb twist, Wozza was back up and running a minute later, completing the quickest recovery from ligament damage of all time.
The second half saw plenty of positives and we took a deserved lead with a cracking strike from Sam Lanahan, whoever he is. The singing from us behind the goal made for a decent atmosphere in the away end. We held on for a fully deserved 3 points, which I don’t mind saying now, was never really in doubt after we scored. I don’t think AWH was even tested in goal, and Nathan Walker, Warren Byerley and Charlie Lasasso all had superb games, as did the whole team.
The post-match drinking duly continued. Firstly in the Eastbourne bar, and then on to the nearby town of Lewes, where we “mobbed” up in the brilliant Lansdown Arms. It was at this point that things started to really get going.
Pints and shots of jägerbombs were consumed. Tom proceeded to drink a bomb, topped with plenty of Tabasco sauce, as punishment for ripping down a Dorch sticker in his local pub, should his visiting in-laws come across it and disapprove.
(Tom, with a tear in his eye, post Tabasco shot)
By the time we crawled to the next boozer, things were pretty hazy. I have little recollection of being in this rather nice hotel, which apparently sixteenth century political activist Thomas Paine once lived in. It was here that we ended up conversing with Doncaster fans about our frustration of people always confusing “Dorchester” with “Doncaster”, because we are clearly the same club.
Whilst I had a tactical nap, Vossy and Cam amused themselves by taking a couple of antique hunting horns off the wall display and running around the hotel playing them as vuvuzelas. It’s amazing we weren’t thrown out.
So yeah, that was a moment or so which [despite the noise] flew me by. We then proceeded to a couple of other pubs where Vossy attempted to woo some girls by doing the splits, Cam getting his crotch licked by rather awesome puppy and Tom ordering 2 family sized bags of salt and vinegar chipsticks, hence the dog.
We concluded the pub crawl by ending up back in the packed Lansdown Arms which had a fun fueled atmosphere, kinda how the Old George on Trinity Street used to be back in the day. All in time to catch the last train home, via Brighton, which conveniently for me stops at Kentish Town. Boom!
It was refreshing to be part of another top quality away day, and with 3 points to boot. Roll on Tonbridge Angels in a fortnight’s time for more of the same.
FR.
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