His name was Ernie...

We’d heard he was ill, but even so it came as a jolt to hear he’d passed, really quite young at 71 and a shudder of mortality for those who saw him play.

It’s a pleasure to be among those who did. When Ernie came to the Poppies in the autumn of 1988, he was already pushing 39, long after most pro footballers have hung up their boots. He had nearly 250 League goals across 750 appearances and was a legend at his home town club of Chesterfield. Did he imagine when joining us that it would be anything more than a twilight season before retirement?  Maybe not.  But it was.     

Ernie made a massive impact in that first year, providing buckets of old-pro calmness and expertise which more than offset his diminishing mobility. Through that classic FA Cup run he was there again and again at key moments. In our mind’s eye and YouTube we’ll always have that little lay off to Robbie to set up the winner v Bristol Rovers, the winner at Halifax in the replay, and then the moment that is probably the most distorted in Poppies folk memory. Last minute at Selhurst Park, Ernie doesn’t quite convert what would have been a joyous equaliser. It almost shaved the post… it did shave the post… the post was shaved closer than a man can get.  In at least one telling, the shot struck the post, dribbled agonisingly along the line and was hacked clear.

In that first season Ernie did more than enough to continue into 1989/90, where my main memory of him is his enduring fitness, and ability to win free kicks. Ernie would go down, looking a little pained. The referee blew. Harry Kane does it now, but with less finesse. By now Ernie was so ancient that a disrespectful newly launched rag tried to mine comic material from his extreme old age in all kinds of clunky ways.

In 1990/91 Ernie had moved on, with grateful thanks for his service.  We thought we’d seen the last of his durable contributions until, despite sitting on top of the Conference with a 10/12/15 point lead (depends on alcohol level when discussed), Peter Morris made a shock addition to our squad for the New Year’s Day return at Boston. Ernie Moss, former League striker, ex-Chesterfield. Now in his 42^nd year. Of course he came on and bundled in a late winner. We loved him then and we love him still.

Sleep easy old friend

Not Quite the Ticket

 It's now been a few weeks since the Club's "offer" to existing season ticket holders was announced to less than universal acclaim.  This was the deal where having been allowed in the stadium for all of 2-games last season at a cost of £110.00 per visit (almost like being a Spurs fan...) the club still wanted a substantial wedge this season to continue to attend.  Whilst other clubs were carrying over season tickets from last season or asking for a token amount, we are looking to charge at least £150.00 or as much as £207.00 to add this season's 21 games to last season's 2.  This means someone who purchased a season ticket for this and last season will be paying over £16.00 per game.  Assuming they attend EVERY game.  

Such was the initial, universal outcry against the unfairness of this "offer" I think we all expected our officials to at least ask themselves had they dropped the ball in this instance.  Perhaps check their working out to see if they had in fact come up with a deal that didn't purely benefit the club at the entire expense of their staunchest supporters.

But no, nothing more has emanated from the club.  No review.  No better offer.  Not even a news story to tell us the offer had been reviewed and stood as is.  Nothing.

We can't help thinking the club is shooting itself in the foot.  At the same time as the club was seeking to shake-down it's season tickets it also got involved in an ugly, public spat with BM Pallets who had been the main club sponsor for several years.  It seemed like a return to the ugly-Ladak days that the club seemed to alienate their hardcore supporters and a loyal local sponsor at the same time.  And so unnecessary.

It would be interesting to know how many season ticket holders have yet to renew for the forthcoming season, given this, and the unknown situation.  I know I haven't done it yet.  I probably will, and more than likely most others will.  But, how many non-renewing ST holders will it take for their absence to hit the club?  Without their season ticket will an appreciable number of supporters pick and choose their games more?  At what cost to the club's coffers.

As said, I will probably renew my ticket.  I'd like to say I would do this out of loyalty to my club, but I fear this time it's as much to do with not flushing down the toilet the £220 I handed over last season. If we choose not to renew our season tickets we get nothing for our previous payment.  This means that if a season ticket holder from last season doesn't renew, but still attends all the games this coming season they will end up paying an eye-watering £21.00 per match.

Again, shades of the Ladak-era.  Not exactly what the club have been striving for I should imagine?

How much more English can I get?

 

How much more English can I get?  Try this....

I pissed myself laughing last night when the image of stoic Gary Von Kemp consoling his devastated daughter at Wembley flashed up on the telly.

Now, less than 12 hours later I feel awful that seeing this bawling Bavarian bairn caused me such hilarity.

Being cursed with English self-effacidness and crippled by the need to 'do the right thing' Patgod hereby apologises unreservedly to the teutonic tyke and has, by way of recompense purchased a 10 copies of 'The Best of Spandau Ballet.'

Ta Ra. For now.

 The news that pint-sized midfield hardcase Michael Richens had left us for the even more dismal environs of St Ives was, seemingly, accidentally announced at Saturday's fans forum by Paul Cox.

Paul seemed to believe we had all been privy to the behind-the-scenes contract shenanigan free-for-all that passes for a quiet close season at Latimer Park and already knew our former captain had left us.  Guess again Paul!  

I'm disappointed Michael has slipped away as he was showing serious signs of adapting to this level.  And, given the number of borderline psychos on our books last season he also looked to be an increasingly level-headed influence on the park.  He had been an integral part of the squad that had got us back into National League North but seemed to spend too much of the past two, curtailed seasons trying to prove his worth to the managers.

At least Coxy gave him a chance.  Something Eaden didn't feel inclined to do.  No sooner had Nicky joined the club than Richens was loaned out to Nuneaton, probably to make room for the quality raft of midfield signings Eaden was lining up for our tilt at a straight return to the Southern League.

Michael racked up an impressive 130 games for us in his time here and we all have many memories of his contributions over that time, and no, they weren't ALL yellow cards!  Three particular recollections spring to my mind.  In no chronological order, and with very few extraneous details, of course.

I remember one game where the forgotten opposition had an absolute slab of man-mountain winning headers for fun against our scared centrebacks.  I don't know if Michael was directed by the Management or took it upon himself to man-mark this freakish giant, but soon he wasn't having it all his own way. Michael got right in his space and challenged him in that special way that smaller guys with a great spring do.  Soon he was out-jumping and out-scrapping this colossal lump to such an extent that our opponents had to find another way of humbling our defenders. 

Another great moment for Richens was his world class goal at Stratford a few seasons ago where he cracked a thunderbolt from fully thirty yards that, had it not hit the back of the net would probably still be going now.  Unfortunately no recording exists of this goal, partly because Stratford didn't film the game (Micky Mouse club!) and partly because it was so cold that day that no-one took their hands out of their pockets to point a camera phone at the pitch.  The goalie too might as well have had his hands in his pockets for all the chance he had of stopping the unstoppable.

My third, abiding memory of Michael came, effectively, just moments before the end of his Poppies career.  It was on or about the 90th minute of the Leamington farce where we were all watching the horror unfold, hour after hour on our television screens from the comfort of our own homes.  If you recall (!) we were shipping goals and players at roughly the same speed and our third early-bather of the evening was heading towards the rapidly-filling dressing room.  

At the bottom of the screen Michael seemed to sum up the utter frustration we all felt.  As the ref reached for his still-warm red card for the third time Michael moved towards him to try to diffuse the situation.  As the card was raised and the player trooped off Michael threw his arms in the air and glowered with rage, frustration and resignation in a matter of moments.  I've never seen a player so completely demonstrate what I myself was feeling.  He was showing the impotent fury we were all feeling and anytime a Poppies players shows that kind of empathy you can't help but warm to them.

All the best Michael.  Till next time!

Oi, Green!

 Well, after last night's "clash" Alan Green, we hope you're f@cking happy now?

http://patgodonline.blogspot.com/2011/11/who-will-rid-me-of-this-turbulent-alan.html?m=0

End of an Era

Such has been the outpouring of tributes to Brett as his 18-year playing association with the Poppies was finally ended, there’s probably nothing we could say that hasn’t already been said. 

The span of his career is remarkable – there are millennials who have never known a time pre-Brett.  He made his debut before Facebook was a thing, the first celebrities were stranded in the jungle, and Jimmy Anderson had taken a Test wicket.  Despite never playing up front except in the odd case of game-chasing desperation, he scored well over a century of goals. Across 598 games, no one ever said “Solkhon didn’t look bothered today”. 

At a future new stadium on the edge of town, there will be a stand waiting to have his name on it.  It’s even ok to admit that he also played for Rushden & Diamonds.

So we’ll leave the accolades to others and turn instead to the urgent issue we now face.

Namely, who is now Mr Kettering?

Like Father of the House, the title Mr Kettering is traditionally bestowed on the longest serving member of the staff. Unlike Father of the House, it doesn’t carry any parliamentary privileges, though does scan better in a chant.

Past Mr Ketterings included of course the likes of Craig Norman, Dougie Keast and Phil Brown in recognition of their years of loyalty, consistency, and ability to survive the annual churn of players at our level. At the other extreme, I’m pretty sure Pat Noubissie was once Mr Kettering for a day, when he was the only player on the pitch at Steel Park who was on our books a few weeks earlier.  

On reviewing our shrinking retained list, there are really only two candidates.

Michael Richens - Richo first played for the club in 2015 and has been here (mostly) since 2017. He is always up for the fight, pops a few in from 30 yards and enjoys letting opponents know he’s there. This also means that he is usually racking up the Nectar points towards his next suspension. Can you be Mr Kettering if often sitting out another ban in the stand? Discuss.

Gary Stohrer - A Poppies stalwart since 2017, not always first choice in that time but seems to be improving with age. Has the indefinable quality of never getting slagged off. Surely destined to one day get a midweek testimonial against a Leicester City XI if someone can pull a few strings.

It has to be Gazza, which hopefully is not the kiss of death and we read next week he’s moved to Brackley.

 Gary when he was just Master Kettering

Those were the days....

 I hope that you, like me, have been enjoying "The Big Match Revisited" on Saturday mornings on ITV4.  They are presently showing games from the 1979-1980 season, which is absolutely prime Soccer Panini Sticker Album territory for those of us born in the mid 60's.  All those memories brought back to life.  Certain player stickers you could never track down and those player stickers you seemed to have in every pack you bought - yes, I'm looking at you Des Bloody Bremner!

Heaving non-socially distanced terraces, tasty non-socially distanced tackling and top division playing surfaces that make Latimer Park look like Wembley - ah yes, "The Big Match Revisited" is a refreshing blast from the past.  A past that in many ways was a far more innocent time.  Big bald Brian Moore held the programme together and answered viewers letters on air.  But, not only did Brian read aloud and answer the letters, he also gave out the writers full name and full address.  Live on air!  Can you imagine that happening these days?

Being the 1979-80 season we also get to see a number of the old stadia we remember seeing as kids.  No new grounds and certainly no all-seaters back then.  I imagine the newest ground back then would have been built several decades earlier.  Other than the odd lick of paint and the occasional new toilet cake none of these grounds had materially changed since the days when Adolf Hitler was getting ideas above his station.  And some of these grounds didn't change much in the decades ahead.  Nine years after this game at Selhurst Park we also filled this exact piece of crumbling terracing.

"The Big Match Revisited" didn't just concentrate on the, well, Big Matches, but also showed games from all four divisions.  This week we saw footage of the 4th division clash between Walsall and Peterborough, a game full of Poppies connections.  Both managers were future Poppies dug out dwellers - Alan Buckley for the Saddlers and Peter Morris for the Posh.  Recent Poppies departee Billy Kellock pretty much won the game single handed for Peterborough with a couple of goals, assisted with a third goal from future Poppies pie-eater - Micky Gynn.  And another future Poppies, er, on-pitch signing, Phil Chard weighed in with a good attempt on target.

Added to the usual sightings of Steve Daly and Dennis Mortimer there's enough here to make Poppies fans of a certain vintage tune in every week.

King Billy Kellock

Hungry Micky Gynn

The Invisible Man Phil Chard