Patgod Issue Three (November 1989) Part Two

The other item of note in Issue Three was the deployment of staples! Yes, the size of PATGOD had doubled from a humble 4 pages to a whopping 8! This made it a good time to pad it out with a few poorly rendered, overly photocopied photographs.

Also, for the first and as far as we can recall, last time we carried an interview with one of the players. The ever-reticent Kevin Shoemake gallantly offered himself up for our mixture of "um's" and "er's" interspersed with inane questions.
A number of the pages in this issue also photocopied in an attractively dark hue, giving those pages a somewhat ethereal quality, almost like a fanzine equivalent of the Turin Shroud!

Evenin' All!

It’s a great time to be a copper.

We are decked out with enough flashy equipment for us to think of ourselves as Robocop or Judge Dredd.

We have Community Support Officers out in the street doing most of our job for us.

We can use “anti-terrorism” laws at our own discretion, whether we are breaking an Al-Qaeda cell, clubbing a bystander at a demonstration, or spying on parents lying about their address to get their kids into a better school.

We have television programmes like “Life on Mars” and “Ashes to Ashes” where the old-school “He fell down the stairs, Guv” method of policing is positively glorified. Good on yer, Gene!

Best of all, we get to tell little football clubs exactly which games we will descend upon in force. Hundreds of officers to keep the peace, maintain safety and uphold the law at potential flashpoints such as a game with Mansfield where there is a history of, well, nothing actually. And nothing at all to do with earning a bit of double-bubble. No way. Perish the thought!

This season, as the Poppies were back in the big time against huge clubs like Eastbourne and Histon we could pretty much write our own cheques couldn’t we? Even better, we can get our mates in the dog-handling divisions and our buddies in the mounted section to join in the fun. Hell, we can even invite our pal in the police helicopter to join in the party. It’s probably best to hold back on the armed response boys, at least until another water bottle is thrown onto the pitch!

It’s all good. The football club can afford it. Ho ho, it’s all good stuff. Mind you, we won’t invite the Community Support Officers along on this one. Oh no. That wouldn’t do at all. Best leave them on the front line, up against the hardened criminals, armed only with the power to talk and phone for help. They don’t have the training to sit around in the sun, playing cards and picking up a decent wad for watching a game of football.

Roll on next season. Luton and Wimbledon eh? That should help pay for my conservatory!

Patgod Issue Three (November 1989) Part One - Cobblers in the FA Cup

During November 1989 American's elected their first black Governor to the state of Virginia (that'll never catch on over there!), and all across Eastern Europe it suddenly dawned on people that communism was a bit of a shitty idea.

A more momentous event on the worldwide stage was obviously the forthcoming FA Cup clash between Northampton and ourselves.

Shoey! What happened?

Back in the 80's the Cobblers were struggling in Division Three, and we were well up in the Vauxhall GM Conference. Far different to today when the Cobblers are struggling in League One, and we are well up in the Blue Square Premier.

In many ways our then (rather one-sided) rivalry with the Cobblers was perfect. We could mock them secure in the knowledge that we'd never have to back our jibes up and actually play against them! They also gave us the easiest stick with which to beat them - our ground had one more side than theirs! Yes, this mighty League club trailed behind us plucky little part-timers! We won 4-3 no matter what they could muster by way of retort.

Happy days. Then we drew them in the Cup....

SHOOEEEY!

The Land that Time Forgot part 12

Couldn’t say I was entirely shocked by our defeat at Non Park last week. To my rather shaky recollection I have only missed two competitive fixtures against our six-fingered friends since they were created. You’ve guessed it; I managed to miss our only 2 wins. My attendance at the game should have sent the bookies running for cover. Mind you, our inability to have a worthwhile attempt on goal in 90 minutes didn’t help much either.

At least we received the usual pleasant webbed-fingered welcome from our lazy-eyed cousins from down the road.

Patgod Issue Two (October 1989)

October 1989 – the East German President resigns amid calls for democratic change and England are in the hat for Italia ’90.


Like London busses, or Branston red cards, the second issue arrived a scant 30-days after the first, unlike the end of the Patgod run when publishing dates and the Olympic committee ran each other neck-an-neck in terms of frequency of workrate, (although Patgod prided itself on shying away from accepting enormous bribes or awarding their patronage to oppressive regimes).


By this time Peter Wilson had been brought onboard to add a touch of class to the proceedings. That and he could actually spell, which back in 1989, before the advent of PC’s and spellcheckers, was a valuable talent. Back then computers were still something only used by trained nerds who were regularly and rightfully beaten for being uber-geeks, or NASA technicians plotting a mission to Mars.


The issue again only stretched to a meagre 4-pages, but the days of single sheet printing were nearing their end. Also, this issue carried the first hint of what was to come with the completely unnecessary trashing of a former player for no other reason than the pain the player had caused could be expressed in print.

Boring Boring Barrow

Whatever you might think of Barrow the team, the fans or indeed the place (northern cloggers, northern nutters and northern shitehole spring immediately to mind) you had to admire their turn out last Tuesday. For a team heading nowhere except into the tender embrace of Blyth Spartans and Solihull Moors they turned out in reasonable, boisterous numbers.

They also brought enough flags to achieve a reasonable coverage of the away end at the Bernabeu Stadium let alone Rocky Road. I dread to think how long it took them to take the flags down after the game, and then drive all the way back to Barrow. I hope none of them had early signing-on times on Wednesday.

You’d have thought the way their supporters celebrated achieving a plucky 11-men behind the ball 0-0 draw that they had secured their league place that evening, if not won the league outright. I don’t know about you but when opposition fans react that way to getting something out of us it gives me a little thrill deep inside. It shows that there are still teams out there who consider us to be “somebody’s”. Leaving Rockingham Road with a point is still something to aspire to.

Mind you if anyone in our team could actually kick a ball in a straight line they would certainly have left not only empty-handed, but on the receiving end of a good tonking. At the moment we seem to either dwell on the ball long enough to be dispossessed or snatch at it as soon as it comes within reach. I just hope we were keeping our powder dry for Saturday…..

Patgod Issue One (September 1989)

Patgod first appeared in the same month Terry Butcher played for England in a blood-drenched shirt (unlike today when the merest abrasion leads to a player being airlifted to the nearest trauma unit). Of less interest, in the rest of the world South Afica elected it's last apartheid leader and the East German government teetered towards collapse.

In the beginning....

The title and indeed the entire concept was the brainchild of Lorne Cheetham, Poppies fan and advertising guru. With this title page it all began. A scant 3 pages later and the first issue had ended. History has forgotten how many were printed of this first issue, but we would hazard a guess that barely a handful survived being given out on the Travel Club coach. Particularly if the toilet had backed-up again.

Fortunately, being only a single sheet of paper folded in half, a copy was saved for future generations and using magical device known as a photocopier, this issue lived again!

Hello, hello, It’s Good to be Back!

It’s been a while hasn’t it? A lot has happened since our last issue was seized upon by a fanzine-hungry Kettering public. Mention should be made that our last issue didn’t prove to be THE last issue. Some might say that due to the selfless actions of a number of people the proud name of PATGOD continued for a number of seasons, shining a wryly-comedic light into the darkest of footballing places. Some might very well say that. Not us of course. In OUR opinion our baby was corrupted by lesser contributors, hamstrung by dipping quality, and allowed to waste away due to the ineffectual efforts of hacks not worthy to lace our shoes.

Boy, it’s good to be able to spout off again!

The Club has certainly changed a bit since we last got together. We have been to Wembley again, won two titles, reached the fourth round of the FA Cup and changed leagues half a dozen times. Plenty of scope for comment there. Especially when you consider that over the course of our classic PATGOD run we wrung a ton of material out of basically shunting around between a dozen league places in the same division. Bitter? Nah. Who’d want to write about Championship wins and League scalps when you can stretch a day-trip to Gateshead to somehow fill four pages, whilst still not actually mentioning the game itself?

The ground is much as we left it. No, scratch that. It is EXACTLY how we left it. The lease is still an issue. The away fans still get wet when it rain and the clock in the corner of the ground still isn’t working. There is however the new Sid Chapman terrace, honouring that stout clubman who was always first to answer the call when the electricity board came knocking. Actually, that terrace is just the old pop side with a new name. Ah, well.

Our friends from Inbred-land are exactly where we left them, although they have enjoyed something of a rollercoaster ride since our last communication. It must be said, that we have enjoyed it too, particularly the latter, slightly more downhill stages of their journey. They also seem to have lost a few thousand of their “dedicated” supporters. Strange that.

Our other friends in Plastic-Jock land seem to be doing much the same as when we left them. Still massing in their dozens for their fortnightly fix of athletics stadium vitriol.

Still on the cusp of greatness.

Still nursing chips the size of the Loch Ness Monster on each shoulder.

Still thinking that acting like an extra out of “Braveheart” is a laudable lifestyle choice.

They also have a new Chairman who seems strangely familiar. You never know, we may just come back to him at a later date….