Whilst witnessing the protracted death of the club under the expert guidance of out poker loving, locum supplying supremo it has reminded me of the perhaps overly hard time PATGOD gave to other club Chairmen over the years. Back in the non-digital days we used to rip club servants to pieces over little things like finishing out of the top 5 of the Conference, not winning the Trophy or failing to get the corner clock to work.
Sometimes it takes a calamitous situation of the type we now face to make you appreciate what you used to have, and want to make some sort of reparation to those you have unjustly maligned.
So, here goes.....
Cyril Gingell may well have wastefully presided over a golden Poppies age and turned a blind eye to the odd tax demand, but during his tenure we regularly attracted over 2000 fans to home games and invariably finished in what are now the play-off positions of Conference Premier.
Mark English - you were an outright crook, and not even a subtle one like the ones we see around our club nowadays. Your sole intention was to screw a few bob out of us. However, you did get us a new stand, and brought all the Poppies fans together for perhaps the only time in history. Out of this developed the Poppies Trust, without whom we would have surely folded by now?
Peter Mallinger - you may have managed our slow decline from League wanabees to Ryman whipping boys, but we had some good times, and the wet afternoon in Tiverton will live long in the minds of everyone who was there.
We feel inclined to apologise to all the above gentlemen for the numerous sarcastic articles and abusive cartoons you had to endure. Inclined, but nah, in hindsight your actions led us to where we are today. Gingell left us weakened and susceptible to a shyster like English, which allowed Mallinger the chance to take over the club, and keep it warm until Ladaak turned up with his long term plan to truly shaft us.
We may be ungrateful bastards when it comes to your input gentlemen, but at least none of us has ever had even an indirect hand in killing our football club.