Carpe Diem Me Duck

It's impossible to look at the photo now adorning the top of the blog without feeling a shiver of nostalgia for that sunny Sunday morning when we packed the stand to cheer out the Southern League champions one by one. Even Steve Wilkinson, whose contribution had largely entailed making sure there was always a nice warm spot on the bench for a newly substituted player.

And the loudest cheers of all were reserved for the gangling lump at the back, clad for no apparent reason in a sheet - Steve (OOOH AAGH) Lenagh, OOOH being the excited gasp as he lined up a shot and AAGH! what normally happened next. But this uncoordinated beanpole will always be a hero because he chose the crunch end of the season to stop being shit just briefly, during which he fired in a couple of crucial goals that probably even he still can't believe.

This is the thing - some players run up and down the Rockingham Road pitch for several seasons, putting in doughty service and making the no.3 shirt their own, but make no lasting impression. Others, sometimes just passing through, grab the moment and become immortal. Is it really over 20 years now since Jackie Gallagher? I can still taste the tension in that Easter match with Kiddy in the title run-in, when we trailed 1-0 for almost the entire game until Jackie got some part of his vast anatomy on a cross and then moments later we were ahead, with over 4,000 going mental. By the time Jackie added to his tally at Sutton on the Monday, he was up there in Poppies folklore and shuffled off into the sunset. Where is Jackie now I wonder? I thought I saw him floating in the sky last summer with a basket underneath, but may have been mistaken.

And then there was Paul Bastock. In many people's eyes this equally gormless cousin of Eddie the Eagle was an unsatisfactory deputy for Shoemake, brought in whenever Morris decided to drop Shoey for being cheerful or popular or something. But then he became the man who shut out Wycombe in a big Cup game at Adams Park and was suddenly loved, even when he later popped up between the Boston sticks.

If the key to immortality is doing something really good in a game that really matters then look no further than Brett McNamara. Never mind his fitful form and regular petulance during Morris's second spell, he is the man who scored the goal that beat Diamonds, which at a stroke made sure he ended his Poppies career still in credit.

So come on Dance or Appiah or whatever currently unsigned combination is our cutting edge in the return match next month, seize the day and we'll love you for ever more. In the biblical sense if necessary.

Rushden's Royal Connection

"Owing to the incestuous tendencies of his ancestors (including his parents, who were brother and sister), he was burdened with a club foot, cleft palate, and curvature of the spine - not to mention avasular bone necrosis in one foot"

Whilst the above description accurately describes almost the entire Diamonds home support, these words were actually used to outline the defects suffered by the boy-King, Tutankhamun in the February 2010 edition of the Journal of the American Medical Association.

Perhaps in future we should bear in mind Rushden's obvious royal lineage, and perhaps temper our scathing criticism of our betters?

Boys in Blue Coin It Again

Even though there has never been any violence between us and the Scum, and even though the game isn't actually in Kettering, it was good to see that the local Plod are still managing to earn a bit of extra bunce by laying in wait for Poppies troublemakers outside the Earl.

Fully armed with repeated viewings of "The Football Factory", and the need to pay off the outstanding balance on their new conservatories, our gallant Policemen stand ready to arrest anyone wearing red, or anyone not wearing red, because, as we all know, the real "firms" never wear their team's colours.

At PATGOD, we applaud such excellent uses of resources. We hear that later this afternoon the 14,000 beer-monsters packed into Franklin's Gardens for a top of the table local derby, which will be presided over by a single lolly-pop lady. As long as her hip isn't playing up.

Corby Leads The Way Again

News reaches us that the United States of America are going to be leaving their Grosvenor Square Embassy in London for a new, purpose built construction modelled on Corby's incredible new "Cube".

The Corby Cube will contain a small theatre, a library, and er, other square rooms.

The American Cube will contain offices, reception halls, banqueting suites and waterboarding torture rooms, which will, of necessity, be en-suite.

US Embassy spokesman, Max Spermberger III, exclusively told PATGOD about the thinking behind this latest move. "We want the next US Ambassador to the Court of St James to have a 21st Century facility, that is both ergonomically plus-positive, but also carbon neutral. We want to bring the naturality of the outside world within the building itself, and create something wonderousful."

"And the fact that our Cube will be based on the Corby design give us great comfortease in these uncertain days. If the Corby Cube can withstand the best attentions of the good folks from the Exeter Estate, we are certain our Cube will be able to withstand anything Al Qaeda can throw at us."

Corby's Cube nears completion

We Know When We're Beat

In the crazy mixed-up age where Football Club Chairman write stuff like this: -


http://www.ketteringtownfc.co.uk/story.php?story_id=414


It doesn't leave very much for fanzines to do, except perhaps welcoming the players, officials and supporters of today's opponents, and hope they have a pleasant afternoon at Rockingham Road......

The White Stuff

Wikipedia describes snow thus -


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snow


The article fails to mention such trifling details as lengthy fixture backlogs, empty Saturdays, club cashflow problems, and being dragged around the shops in Leicester by ones other half.

These are such basic and obvious omissions it is no wonder people have historically showed little trust in the accuracy of the website!

Say What You See!

There was an OK thriller at the pictures a couple of years ago called "Vantage Point" about a public assassination viewed from the perspectives of several different characters. Each of them added a little more to the story, and each of the characters perception was coloured by their outlook.



You don't have to watch the film, and anyway, Matthew Fox was the baddie, so now I've ruined it for you even if you were considering popping down to Blockbuster.


You particularly don't need to rent this movie if you happened to be at Holker Street last Saturday, as a real, live version of "Vantage Point" was unfolding. The incident, as we all know, was JJ's tussle with Barrow striker Gregg Blundell which resulted in Blundell colliding with a wall and requiring hospital treatment. The same kind of wall that surrounds the Rocky Road pitch, which we were told to screen off with angled hoardings - I wonder why Barrow haven't been advised to do the same?



On the day, most Barrow fans saw JJ deliberately push their player into the wall. The Barrow Manager Dave Bayliss saw the incident as nothing less than attempted murder, and literally took the law into his own hands. Poppies supporters and officials saw the challenge as being a robust shoulder-to-shoulder clash. JJ himself feels hard done by that he was even booked! It seems that Blundell is on the mend, which is the important thing.



The confrontational, and adversarial nature of football means that we all see things differently.

For example, we Poppies fans saw the clash between Michael Wanking and John Dempster the other week, as a vicious elbow swung by the talentless York carthorse, whereas, I'm sure, the York fans merely saw their talentless carthorse getting away with swinging a vicious elbow......OK, bad example, but you know what I mean.

Save the Vulcan!

No, not Spock.

Apparently there is just a single flying Vulcan bomber left in existence. I can't remember the exact game it happened (possibly AFC Wimbledon?), but this mighty leviathan flew around the ground a few times earlier this season. If it was the Wimbledon game you can be sure of two things -

1. It was the high point of the day
2. Even the pilot would have seen the handball their defender did late on in the game

This beautiful plane is in danger of being grounded forever due to lack of funds. Anyone wanting more information about the Vulcan, or how they can help, click here: -

www.vulcantothesky.org

Corby Hits the Big Time

Go-ahead Corby Borough Leader Chris Mallender has launched a bid for Corby to become a City. It would be a meteoric rise from sleepy village, through town status onto being a fully-fledged City in under a century.

To be honest you would be forgiven for thinking that Corby was already a City.

• It has shopping facilities unrivalled anywhere in Western Europe



• It is a place where vast numbers of people not originally from the area have descended



• It ranks highly right up there with our worse cities when it comes to drink and drug abuse



• Teenage pregnancy is seen as a positive career choice



• The threat of sectarian division weighs heavily on the place



• There are rival football teams of a comparable size - Corby and S&L



• The place gets as many government grants as it can bank



• They talk funny

PATGOD is more than happy to help our local neighbour achieve this aim. We say, slap a cathedral on top of the Corby Candle or next door to the Junkie Drop-in Centre and call the place a City!

Fight Fight!

In these days when it's easy to wonder if football has lost its soul, how refreshing and indeed entertaining to see a good old fashioned dust up involving all outfield players in the York match.

It had most of the necessary ingredients - a couple of players slapping each other leading to a mass charge, with 'hold me back' gestures on all sides and a futile little ref peeping for all he was worth.

If only a couple of sub-fights had broken out on the fringes, with one maybe started by a late intervention by one of the keepers, and a minimum of three red cards had been waved, we might have been witnessing a classic fit to rival one of those clips Saint and Greavsie used to chuckle over, usually involving comical foreigners beating the shit out of each other in South America.

However, like most of these affairs, it ended in a whimper. The futile little ref eventually restored order by looking cross and dishing out a measly two yellows, and no one was actually hurt, like always in our domestic footballing scraps. You'd think that with up to 22 grown men flailing away, the odd good swing would occasionally connect. I've seen more decent blows landed when my kids squabble for the remote control.

New Balls Please

There was a distinct lack of testicles on display (!) from the match officials at yesterday's game with York. Admittedly, this is partly explained by the fact that one of the linesmen was a lineswoman.

Less acceptable was the lack of balls shown by the ref for not dismissing that animal, Michael Rankine, who laid JD out with an elbow. Mr Rankine, who played in a similar vein when he should have been sent of for the Scum last season at Rockingham Road, again had to be withdrawn by his Manager before even yesterday's timid ref reached for the red card.

After playing Stevenage and York in quick succession, you've really got to ask, where have all the good teams gone at this level?

It's been a while

Just in case anyone has any problems this coming Saturday......


Might also be worth checking this too -


http://www.conferencegrounds.co.uk/kettering_town.htm


And I think we play in red......

Where Now For Crestfallen Poppies?

The fall-out from last night's disastrous defeat to Corby continues.



The Club is counting the cost of missing out on a money-spinning Cup Final against mighty Daventry. The blow was cushioned a little by the thousands of pounds generously given by Corby Town fans to Poppies coffers.



Kettering Boss Lee Harper said, "We were desperate to fit in a prestigious fixture like the Daventry one into our midweek schedule, as we have almost no Tuesday night fixtures for the rest of the season."



"I'm gutted for the lads; they were dying to match themselves against the likes of Nicky Bailie and Joel Young at Daventry. One or two of the boys are in tears back there. I've got a big job to lift them again for Saturday." "Games like Leeds United come and go, but every player wants to make his mark on the Hillier Senior Cup, and write their name into its history", added a bitterly disappointed Harper.



Peter Mallinger paid tribute to the Corby masses at the game, "Where the f**k are they when we're at home?!" beamed the winning Steelman Chairman. He added, "And where were they on Saturday when we had a real f**king game that could have put us in the last 8 of the s**ding Trophy?!"



Jubilant Corby fans poured into the Kettering night. When asked who was their standout player one grinning supporter proudly stated, "That No.5 played well, or was it No.6?" Numerous other happy fans declared, with believable honesty, that this was the best they had ever seen Corby play. None of them, however, were overly keen on turning up for the County showdown with Daventry, as it may clash with Rangers on the television.





"Here we go" cheer happy Corby Town fans, immediately prior to breaking the curfew on their ASBO's.

Corby Itinerary for Hillier Cup

The following document has fallen into our hands, detailing the itinerary that Corby Town supporters will be following for tonight's training session, sorry, game.

Corby Unified Nipps & Tatties Supporters

5.30AM Arrive back in the bail hostel after an night on the rob.

6.00AM Drink a stolen bottle of whisky, and off to bed.

8.00AM Wake up. Pop out to local shop and nick more alcohol.

8.30AM Make sure the blow-up sheep is nicely inflated.

9.00AM Pop back to local shop and steal breakfast of Scotch pie and Irn Bru.

9.15AM Pop back to local shop again and set fire to it.

9.30AM Down the Dole Office to collect money.

Get a grant for £10,000 from the Government just because you live in Corby.

9.45AM Burn down the Dole Office.

10.00AM Score some smack.

Retire to bedroom for rest of the morning with the inflatable sheep.

2.00PM Wake-up and use someone else's PC to have a rant about Kettering Town. Use the term "sheepshaggers" at least three times in every sentence.

3.00PM Turn up at the Rockingham Triangle to catch one of the coaches going to Kettering.

3.05PM Steal building supplies from the new football ground being built for Corby and again funded by public funds.

3.06PM Burn down the workmen's hut.

3.30PM Arrive at Beeswing pub for 4-hour drinking session.

3.31PM Don amusing "see you Jimmy" ginger wig and hat combination.

3.32PM until 7.24PM Drink anything and everything you can lay your hands on, including slops tray, window cleaner and piss puddles in the toilet. Go on and on about how great it is to be Scottish, although you have never actually lived there, and swear undying loyalty to either Rangers or Celtic (depending on which side of the bigoted sectarian divide your ancestors just happened to be on). Mass brawl with members of other faction.

7.25PM Wank off to "Braveheart"

7.26PM Leave Beeswing, pausing only to set fire to it.

7.45PM - 9.30PM Attend game with hundreds of other Corby fans you've never seen before.

2.45AM Wake up in a field with no recollection of the previous night. Your trousers are down by your ankles, your loins feel spent and there are dishevelled sheep grazing contentedly around you. It dawns on you that the last thing you remember from the previous night was thinking to yourself, "Mm...I wonder what shagging a sheep would actually be like? Must be better than shagging my own sister? She's a right minger!"

Coops bites the bullet

It would seem that Mark's lucky streak has come to an end with news that he has been relieved of duties at the Posh. One win in 13 left his hard-to-please Chairman, Dagger McBagstabber reaching for the P45's.

For some reason the Posh Chairman is labouring under the impression that Peterborough are a genuine Championship club on a par with Newcastle, Forest and West Brom, and not a basement team, promoted wildly above their station, more at home playing the likes of the Cobblers and Accrington Stanley.