• “Would you like a smoothie or a cranberry juice for your period?”

    So Dorch are back, lads. That spirit, that fight, that arrogance.  Same old Magpies, taking the piss. Andy Harris, Danny O‘Hagan, Matt Lonnon, Mark Jermyn. Oh Mark Jermyn. It‘s far too early to be saying this of course, but for a moment on Saturday it genuinely felt like finally we have our club back. Of […]

  • “I’d rather go to a Russian prostitute than an English one”

    Last year was one of the worst seasons in recent history for our club. But going into Saturday’s game away at Chesham, we were undefeated in 2015 and were yet to concede a goal. Well, we played one game and drew it 0-0. But with the recent removal of Hereford’s results, it became official that […]

  • “Don’t flatter yourselves Poole, we only scrap with teams in a ten mile radius. If this game was against Kangaroos, shit would go down”

    Happy New Year everyone! For Magpies fans all over the world it’s fair to say that 2014 had been on paper THE worst year in the clubs history. Ok… maybe not history, but in my lifetime anyway. So what better way to kick off 2015 than a local “derby,” to the side sitting on the […]

  • “You know you’re at a tinpot level when there’s no Sutton sticker on the toilet cistern”

    Just as every single non-league programme article must apparently begin with the immortal lines “Welcome to the players and officials of….” so too must every Sunday morning scribe on here begin with a similar, pointless yet essential traditional preamble. So let us begin. Beaconsfield. A fucking village. Tinpot. Hadn’t even heard of it until this […]

  • “I turned down sex for this tonight.”

    Imagine being addicted to heroin but this type of heroin has a high that only occurs once in a blue moon, with a massive come down mostly every time. That’s what following Dorchester Town is like. Probably worse than heroin actually. Yeah, being a Dorch fan is definitely worse than being a heroin addict. It’s […]

  • “That’s not central heating Tom, that’s the sun”

    When I moved to London, had someone told me that in a years’ time I’d be looking forward to a trip to St Neots, , I’d have had to ask what a St Neots is, before politely telling them to fuck off. But what d’ya know, one year on, a trip to St Neots to watch […]

  • “How is a man supposed to attract a blue tit to his table if he shouts?”

    It’s been an odd couple of weeks in the life of SJ Voss, with some excellent high points in a brilliant stag do in Krakow and a new job soon to begin, but also accompanied by some irritating lows in a concussion, hospital appointments, and the very nasty re-emergence of my anxiety/depression gremlins. So in […]

  • “Don’t make it worse lads, I’m having a shit night as it is”

    Well, we all knew what a kick in the balls getting relegated to the Zameretto Calor Stik Beezer Homes Southern League would be like. A far cry from visiting luxurious hubs of English football such as Staines, Boreham Wood and Basingstoke, we now get to visit some isolated pieces of land that nobody has either […]