Don't Mind Me, It's The Heat (Mostly)

Sure, it's the quiet-time of the footballing calendar.  I get that.  No World Cup or Euro's.  There's some kind of "Club World Cup" going on somewhere, but God alone knows what that's all about.  Back in the real world clubs around our level are busy horse-trading for players to pose on their social media cheerily holding a scarf or shirt of their new employer.  As it's meant to be I suppose.  These days there's also the boring interviews to complete, when players have to dredge-up some genuine-sounding reason to sign for Peterborough Sports beyond the truth of "they've paid me a stupid amount of money to play in front of 300 f*cking people".  Or, our new Manager, turning a getting-to-know-you-interview into a cure for clinical insomnia.

Maybe it's just me.  Perhaps the disappointment of losing the Play-Off Final to the pointless skanks of Telford is finally hitting me.  Or the nagging thought that last season was it - that was our BIG chance of getting back into the National League and we blew it.  Blew it to the noncy-London-overspill of sodding Bedford Town for crying out loud!  Oh, and the heat of course.

Or is it the niggling feeling we've made an enormous mistake getting rid of a Manager who gave us our best season for a decade and for why?  I think we all reached the conclusion that he fell out with the Club owners because they were overly handsy when it came to the playing side.  If so, why quit on us?  Was it so bad having George and Fabio saddling Lavery with a few players he didn't want or ask for?  Just don't pick them.  It worked last season!

It is also dispiriting seeing an exciting young player like Luca leave, while re-employing the grimly dependable George Forsyth who was worth a punt when we were struggling, but wouldn't have got a sniff of making the starting XI last season.  A club showing true vision would create a midfield around Luca, not look to loan him, bench him and then get rid of him.

And what of our owners?  Again, the boredom and heat is busy besetting me with niggling worries.  Do they realise just how monumental last season was?  Do they honestly believe the gates will hold up the same next season?  Are they thinking - even for a second - of banking on a comparable FA Cup run?  Do they realise how penny-pinching they are coming across with constant little add-ons, changes, extra costs and price increases.  If they didn't make enough money from the most successful season since Rockingham Road, they are NEVER going to generate enough income.  No matter how much they squeeze the loyal few.  And, as for that new home shirt.....

Anyway, as I stated earlier, don't mind me.  I'm bored, hot and not being wowed by the club's business so far.  Who knows, a bit of drizzle, a few games and a Hollyhead interview under 2-minutes long and I'm sure I'll be as good as gold.

Hot, hot, hot.  In every sense.....!

The Poppies in Pictures this week

So far this week in Poppyland.....

New Poppies coach invented a welcome cure for insomnia with a
13 minute interview that felt like 13 hourszzzz....  

The club unveiled possibly the worst home kit ever laid before the most
critical and expectant supporters in football, with predictable results. 
Fussy, confused and frankly annoying, but enough of us lot!  
Seriously though, it is difficult to understand how this design made it to
the final choice unless all of the other options included images of engorged genitalia.

Leon Loboit has chosen to risk following in the footsteps
of Leroy May, Recky Carter and, more recently, Jonnie Edwards
and put his free-scoring reputation on the line by signing for 
the club known in non-league circles as "the strikers graveyard." 

Another Regeneration that leaves the punters underwhelmed

The two worst kept secrets in the country were both given official airings this week, with Simon Hollyhead becoming the new Dr Who and Ncuti Gatwa being sacked by the Poppies.  Or something.  Either way, the nation's two most demanding fandoms were all of a froth.

As ever, the Poppies-twittersphere was ablaze with the full gamut of reactions from "Who" to "WTF" over the appointment of Hollyhead to the most prestigious role on British TV - following in the esteemed time-travelling footsteps of luminaries such as Tom Baker, David Tennant and Andy Leese.

George and Fabian were full of praise for their new appointment, fully raiding their well-thumbed AI generated Thesaurus in search of positive words and phrases they hadn't already used on Richard Lavery right up until the point they forced his regeneration.

And the owners are looking ahead to the forthcoming season of the long-running show by promising many exciting adventures in time and space against regular baddies like The Weeping Alvechurch, The Spalding Devils, Stamfordalek and the Cybarwell-Men as well as returning enemies - Needham Masters.  

And I'd better stop this sad-as-f*ck article right there as I'm now boring even myself.

"....My time at Latimer Park has come to an end....."

Once More on the Management Merry-Go-Round

As the Poppies Ownership continue to root through, no doubt, a stack of admirable applicants for a new Manager, news that whoever is /was the Manager of Banbury United has filtered to the top of the pile.  One must assume that he interviewed well, has a good network of contacts and made it clear that he wouldn't necessarily mind the occasional player or three being foisted on him by eager Directors.

Is it just the Poppies that, in recent years, treated the end of the season like the fall of Rome?  Players  cast out, Management sacked and Volunteers burned.  Then the next manager comes in, complains about lack of players and preparation and assembles a team of stumbling nobodies.  Think about it.  Last season was our best in the last three.  Why?  Because of new ownership?  Perhaps.  But possibly more because Lavery was given the end of the season before and the Summer to put together the best squad we've had for several seasons.

Some clubs pick "their man" and then back him to deliver.  Why don't we?

Case in point.  Perhaps you've forgotten, but not that long ago AFC Telford squeaked back into National North against....someone.  They had backed and RETAINED their Manager Kevin Wilkin from when they were last at that level.  Whilst we burned through Lee Glover, Andy Leese, James Le Masurier, Richard Lavery and are casting about for our fifth Gaffer in just over two and a half seasons, Telford kept faith and were rewarded.

Think also of Paul Holleran at Leamington who has racked up over 700 games as Manager of a club roughly half our size and doing twice as well.  Leamington were relegated with us and Telford, and, with their Phil Mitchell look-a-like still calling the shots, went straight back up again.

But not for us such stability.  Not when we can have an annual bring-and-buy and see who fancies a year navigating the Burton bobbles before being given the boot.

Bake-Off Tent to Baked-hard pitch.
Is Hollywood swopping Prue for the Poppies?

2024-2025 So close to Perfection

Before we delve into the usual post-season glorious Poppies sh*tshow that's raging all around us, we thought we'd take a breath and take a cheery delve into the Top and Bottom Five of last season.  Who knows.  It might lighten the mood a bit as our players continue to drift away....

TOP FIVE MOMENTS

The FA Cup win against Farsley Celtic.  We absolutely bossed a team from the division we were turfed out of the season before.  The same team that had managed to hang onto their National North place season after season, finally at our expense.  It's sad what has happened to Farsley since, but we definitely gave them what-for when both them and us we're at full strength.

The FA Cup win at The Cobblers.  Well, duh.....

The league win away at Telford, when we completely wiped the floor with our promotion rivals.  They couldn't have complained had we doubled our score, so dominant we were on the night, outplaying them in every department.  That was the night when winning the League suddenly looked, if not a certainty, then at least a bloody good bet.

This season's Macaroni Cheese on sale at Sudbury.  After notching in our Top Five Moments last season with their spicy bean nachos, the cooks at AFC Sudbury had done it again!  The missus declared it "bloody delicious".  Not that I was permitted the opportunity of checking the quality of the repast for myself.  I'm sure it was far better than the game, although a dead rat on a stick would have been better than that game. 

The Play-Off Semi Final when we started to look the part again until.....

BOTTOM FIVE MOMENTS        

The Play-Off Final.

The Doncaster FA Cup game was close to making it into the category above, and if it wasn't for Troy Deeney's boyfriend Billy Sharp would certainly have done so.

Any of the dismal post FA Cup performances, such as away to Barwell, Harborough, Redditch, Banbury or Lowestoft or home to Bromsgrove, St Ives or Hitchin, where a couple of additional wins would have got us over the promotion line.

Isiah's bizarre departure to play for a crook whose team was headed for relegation.  Cost us BIG time.

The shilly-shallying about parking costs at Latimer Park.  Was it a charge?  Was it a voluntary contribution?  Months later and still no one knows - from Chairman down to supporters no one can say for certain.  All it did was raise a tiny amount of money at the expense of a lot of bad will.  An utterly avoidable own goal.

And a lovely little bonus bummer - 

An unnamed supporter known only as W*yne T*deswell helpfully suggesting to George that 60 is far too young to qualify for a concession ticket.  Obviously, always looking for that extra buck, George lapped up this suggestion like a man reaching an oasis after crawling on his belly for the full length of the Sahara desert.  And a big thank you to W*yne from all of us 58/59 year old supporters.

Connor Turns Terminator

After a dramatic, tension filled night at Latimer Park it’s certainly nice – and a great relief – to reflect on a performance that restored belief. Not to mention setting up an epic finale (we hope).

If there were home nerves before the game it was certainly understandable, as apart from one good win at Stourbridge we hadn’t really looked the part since Christmas. With nearly all the talent that took us to the heights still with the club it has been difficult to fathom the collective drop off. Discontent over wage demands?  Too much squad rotation?  New signings parachuted in?  Lavs and his touchline meltdowns?  The pizza van going missing for several crucial fixtures?  It all felt very ominous.  Many feared we were sitting ducks to be turned over by a brash and confident Harborough side.

But on the other hand, it was worth remembering that this was bloody Harborough Town, not PSG.  Yes they had a Brazilian, but a novelty version mostly there for media clicks. Over the course of the season they, like us, weren’t good enough to win automatic promotion. Liam Dolman wasn’t getting any younger, or less bulbous. And their fans, bless them, with their packet-fresh yellow scarves, were so new to all this they’d even made a sweet little banner that they tried to ripple overhead before folding it up and popping it in a nice quilted bag.

 Less tifo, more tea towel

Over the next two hours we saw a Kettering side seemingly revitalised, sweeping the ball to the wings, piling on the pressure and getting closer and closer without ever finding that killer finish. With just a normal conversion rate we’d have settled it long before the end, but thankfully our back five were also up to anything Harborough had to offer... with the odd scare. Lewis White’s phenomenal tackle close to the end literally kept our season alive.

And so to penalties. For us, the last thing we wanted. For Harborough, mission accomplished, judging by their efforts to eat up the clock and the hugs at the final whistle.

After 10 minutes to manage the fiendishly complicated business of two coin tosses, we were under way. Prayers were silently offered. Pints nervously sipped. Certain defeat was already being rationalised, to prepare for the blow. For those unable to bring themselves to watch, it went a little like this:

SAAAAVED

AAAAGH

SHIT!

NOOOO

DOUBLE SHIT

THANK GOD

YES!!!

YES!!!!!!

BOLLOCKS

COME ON!!!

YES BLOODY YES

NOOOOOOOOO

BAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR

BAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR

Connor, what can you say.  It is of course inevitable that any home grown defender who carries on with a bloodstained head bandage is likened to Terry Butcher. But not only is Connor Johnson, despite his Kettering genes, far better looking than Terry Butcher, he topped anything Butcher ever managed by slamming home the winning pen with absolutely no hesitation.  In the process becoming both a genuine Poppies legend and an automatic pick for our 175^th anniversary game.

And now it’s time to rest, refocus, stitch up head wounds, find some spare parts for Wes, oil those tonsils and get ready to finish the job. 

Beat that Butcher 

Who's up for hating Harborough with me?

It hasn't taken long.  We've learned to despise Harborough Town quickly this season.  Case in point - the number of people on KTFC Chat who used to casually drop into the online conversation they might pop across and watch Harborough on a Saturday when we were away from home.  Those comments were often derided by the rest of us back then, but those same people wouldn't DREAM of mentioning this sort of thing now.

And why would anyone want to visit "Bowden Park" anyway?  It has to be the most perfunctory stadium ever to grace this level of football.  For all of Latimer Park's numerous drawbacks, it is roughly a thousand times better than Harborough's sterile junior-school-level facility.  We were only there a few months ago yet I can't recall a single feature of note from their stadium.

As a club they are another in the seemingly never-ending stream of outfits being promoted far beyond their natural level by mysteriously benevolent funding.  How else would they be able to afford the wages of puffy, baby-faced goal-getter Ben Stephens, or afford the constant fines of angry nutter Connor Kennedy, or indeed, afford the never-ending pork-pie bills totted up by Liam Dolman?  And Mitch Austin isn't cheap, despite all evidence to the contrary.

And what of Market Harborough itself.  Leaving aside the fact we all love their town centre and wish Kettering town centre was half as good, the place isn't worth a damn!  What with functioning infrastructure, plenty of shops, top quality butchers and fishmongers and thriving indoor market, there's almost nothing worth mentioning.  The godforsaken place even has a cinema and theatre in the town centre....I mean, what's that all about?

And what of Harborough's favourite sons and daughters?  Well, it is the birthplace of Elizabethan era witch Agnes Bowker who supposedly gave birth to a cat.  The town also produced the bass player from evil 70's revival band Showaddywaddy, notably famous for giving us all an easy Jimmy Savile impression.  And Harborough also gave us Simon Park, who's band inflicted us with the tune "Eye-level", better known as the painful ear-worm opening music to "Van der Valk".  No doubt the town has also spawned more than the national average per population of nonces and serial killers too, but, sadly, Wikipedia has come up short on the subject.

Anyway, here's to thrashing their arses on Wednesday.

Or squeaking past them with a bobbly deflected goal popping in off Jonny's knee.  I'm easy either way.

Agnes Bowker's angry looking pussy