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“You know you’re at a tinpot level when there’s no Sutton sticker on the toilet cistern”
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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…
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“I turned down sex for this tonight.”
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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.…
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“That’s not central heating Tom, that’s the sun”
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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…
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“How is a man supposed to attract a blue tit to his table if he shouts?”
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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…
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“Don’t make it worse lads, I’m having a shit night as it is”
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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…
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“That’s the problem with London. You get into Waterloo and you don’t know whether you’re on a train or the tube”
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It’s always the same isn’t it? You wait all summer for the trip to Arlesey on the opening day and then have to make two journeys there in one weekend. Still, if you’re stupid enough to leave a hardly inconspicuous, 10ft St George’s flag on the platform, you’ve only got yourself to blame really.…