In the euphoric ending to 2024 and our last grasp victory over Basingstoke, Tommy Killick warned against complacency and the need to refocus quickly for Winchester just two days later. At the time, I assumed he was referring to the difficulty players can sometimes face in motivating themselves following such an emotional victory. But in hindsight, I think he was simply warning against how emotionally draining it is to play Winchester City, let alone having to watch it.
With their propensity to break the game up at every bloody opportunity – be it through faking injuries and or surrounding the referee over the smallest of fouls, games against Winchester have typically been fucking turgid affairs. Clearly, this feeling isn’t exclusive to us, as they’ve gained something of a reputation in non-league X (previously know as “non-league twitter”) for their “anti-football” tactics. In fairness, it’s worked well for them and they are now an established club at this level. The laying of a new 3G pitch will only enhance their club – as it appears to have done with their tactics – they came into this game having put three past Gosport and four past Wimborne. Perhaps they are more expansive this season and their tactics of old now consigned to the bin?!
As dreary as games against them have been, they certainly haven’t lacked a bit of spice. Winchester have become one of those teams who, whilst not significant enough to ever be considered a rival per se, have become a team we’ve grown to dislike somewhat as everyone there appears to be a bit, well…. twattish. (See also: Totton and Poole)
It all started two seasons ago when the trio of Douglas, Griggs and Balmer all had the nerve to show some ambition and join us during Howsey’s squad re-build. The abuse they received at the time was as funny as it was bemusing. Ironically, none of the three made the grade with us and ended back at Winchester within a year, where their fans suddenly became incredibly precious of them. None more so than during the now infamous Storming of Winchester last season, in which the ever-borish Craig Davis labelled our fans “toxic”, was still ranting about us in his post-match interviews three games later, and accusing us on social media of damaging his players vehicles (In actual fact a cone was put on one of our Director’s car). The most precious of all though was Griggs’ Grandad, who never warmed himself to Dorch fans during their time here, instead choosing to constantly complain about the club and shout down anyone who dared groan at one of his grandson’s many misplaced passes. This very peculiar gentleman, easily in his late seventies at least, was last seen in Winchester’s car park, trying to stop Killick close his car door and leave, whilst Ollie tried to pull him away. At least it wasn’t going to be a quiet game…
Still queuing to get in due to a bumper NYD Dorch turn out (and about 20 City fans) I missed Winchester’s only significant contribution to the first half, when a mistake from Hutch let in Tommy Wright who, fortunately for us smacked the ball against the post. Perhaps that early sign of ambition frightened Winchester, as for the rest of the half they retreated back into their half and seemed content to play for a draw. Whether it was the New Year’s Eve hangover or the shock of a complete absence of any opposition press, Winchester afforded us all the time on the ball we wanted and invited us to break down their eleven men “low block” (For the older readers, this is what the kids call what we once knew as ‘Parking the bus’).
We laboured to create any opening of note: Pards whipped in a couple of inviting crosses that just evaded Shaq but was well marshalled by their left back. Shaq himself was putting in a real shift to find space, but was thwarted by the deceptively quick Alex Wilkie at centre back. Dawsy meanwhile was working hard to get off his wing and on the ball but was repeatedly let down by his decision making. He played with all the energy of someone frustrated at a lack of playing time, leading them to over compensate. He’s young though and hopefully someone will encourage him to focus on just enjoying football and focus less on trying to force an outcome.
The game was played at a pedestrian pace and frankly bored the arse off everyone. The atmosphere became eerily quiet, so much so that you could hear the proverbial pin drop. You could certainly hear Craner shout “Still shit I see, Griggsy”… which was the cue his grandad needed. In a pace that defied his seventy or eighty-odd years he raced around to the Dorch fans behind the goal and stood at the foot of the terrace…. giving us the wanker gesture!
A steward – once he had stopped laughing – eventually led Grandad Griggs away to the disabled section at the side of the pitch, where he promptly stood for the next ten minutes, wrapped up in four layers and a fetching red & black scarf, continuing to give us the wanker sign from afar. It was genuinely one of the funniest things I have ever witnessed at a match. God bless you, Sir. Certainly for the winter.
The atmosphere was quiet but the gate was a healthy 900+, boosted a little bit by the Wimborne-Poole derby succumbing to the weather. Fresh from kicking out a couple of our fans of Boxing Day for having the temerity to not piss themselves, the Poole stewards had emailed the club saying they were coming to the game and could they be added to the Comps List. Personally, I’d have simply replied “Fuck off”, but that’s probably why my short-lived career in PR only lasted a year. Instead, the club ignored them and rightly charged them full price on the gate. Whether they forgot they were no longer at work or not, I don’t know, but the only other highlight of the half were two scruffy gentlemen head to toe in Poole merchandise doing laps of the stadium… walking past us three times en route to their 10k steps. Most strange.
To much relief the half came to a close. We all felt quite confident that with a rocket from Tommy at half time, we’d come out stronger for the second half and see the game out. We weren’t wrong.
Barely two minutes into the second half and Shaq was sent away down the left. He cut inside and as he reached the corner of the six yard box, he fired a wicked shot across goal that Cairney did well to get the slightest of touches to it and out for a throw in.
A scrappy quick period of play eventually saw us regain possession and Corby aimlessly lobbed one back in to the mixer and as the Winchester players stood and watched the ball drop on the edge of their box, Daws took it upon himself to control it and set Olaf to run towards goal – via three defenders. His shot ricocheted off one of those and fell fortuitously at the feet of Shaq, who looked a mile off side. Not worried about that, he turned, slid it under Cairney and waited for the whistle to rule it out. It didn’t come. Instead the lino signalled that #3 had played Shaq on and it took a second or two for everyone (including Shaq) to realise the goal stood and we were ahead. (TV replays, by which we mean VEO, later showed it to be an excellent decision, so credit to the lino)
Whilst we celebrated, Winchester protested. Cairney’s histrionics made him look a bit of a twat (something we thought he kept reserved for when behind a keyboard) and Tommy Wright, with his clear view from the half way line, got booked for dissent.
They, quite naturally, were a bit rattled and we sensed a quick second. Buse went close when his back-of-the-head header flew just past the post, and Pardoe was having a bit more luck this half and went close on a couple of occasions.
Credit to Winchester though, they regrouped, made some attacking substitutions and took control of the game. They were winning everything in midfield and moving the ball around well, particularly out wide. Our substitutions were reactive ones rather than the accustomed attacking ones we’ve been used to. But, whilst Winchester peppered our box, we looked dangerous on the break and really should have taken one of the two or three counter attacks to double our lead.
With Winchester putting us under real pressure now, we nervously looked on… cheering every clearance and encouraging every tackle. For Livvy though, he had bigger problems on his mind, as following a smart stop from Gez, he turned to his brother and asked aloud:
“Simon, I know its not really the time, but do you like Sticky Toffee Pudding?”
Seemingly, Livvy’s partner back home wasn’t aware of the emotional turmoil he was currently going through as preparations for that evening’s family dinner took precedence. We never did find out whether Simon preferred custard or cream, either.
Meanwhile on the pitch, Spetchy and Ieuan were heading everything in sight as Winchester began to become more desperate as time ticked away. Six minutes of injury time felt frustratingly long, but in hindsight was probably about right given the length of Cairney and co’s hissy fit. Similar hissy fits were to be repeated at the full time whistle, when the ref blew up early. Craig Davis stormed onto the pitch and was promptly booked for his remonstrations (one of three City bookings for dissent on the day). TV replays would show that the referee blew up a whole two seconds early, so their frustrations were clearly well founded!!! Nevertheless, it was a very decent win inasmuch as it was properly ground out and showed real resilience. We were so far from our best and yet still found a way to win – the hallmark of a good side.
The WhatsApp group attention soon turned to Winchester’s twitter feed in expectation of another bitter monologue from Davis, but to his credit he was very gracious in defeat, praising both our team and our fans. How disappointing!
Normality was somewhat restored the next morning when he replied to one of our tweets with a middle finger emoji and complaining that they didn’t get the throw in decision before the goal.
They must eat a shit tonne of carrots in Hampshire, as last week Basingstoke’s manager had a “perfectly clear view” from a full 80 yards away of Shaq’s penalty, and this week Davis was a “million percent” sure that the linesman got the tightest of throw-in decisions wrong. This all conveniently ignored the fact that his team had re-won possession, lost it and failed to clear their lines twice between the throw in and the goal. Of course…
Once they had to chase the game, Winchester caused us untold problems and not many teams have come to the Avenue and put us under that much pressure. McCormick looked very useful at right back and had the number of Pardoe for a lot of the match. Eastleigh-loanee Alex Wilkie outshone Buckley at centre back and his pace allowed him to make a number of impressive covering tackles when Shaq could have been in. It’s not hard to see why Ik Hill has been making headlines either, his direct running at pace caused the back line a lot of problems. If they had played with that intent from the off, they may well have gone home with point(s). Fortunately for us though, they didn’t, and we were able to grind out an impressive win when the players looked dead on their feet after an intense two games in three days.
It set us up nicely for a big, big game at Havant, where I’ll be popping to the local Waitrose Aldi to pick up a bag of carrots. CM
PS: On a serious note, their number 8 Max Smith was substituted early due to what sounded like a pretty terrifying family situation. Our best wishes go out to Max and his family.