A good old fashioned, British moan

A pre-article addendum to this piece.  Following third-party communications with George we are content to accept and confirm there appears to be nothing untoward in the club's dealings with Alumasc about their carpark, which is good news and the funds donated are going to towards maintenance of the carpark.  

We'd like George and the new board to know, that despite much evidence to the contrary, Patgod doesn't exist purely to antagonise club officials.  Except Ken Samuel of course.  Particularly we aren't looking to upset new owners who have thus far done an excellent job.  George, Nadiya and Fabian have truly breathed new life into the Poppies.  

It's not unreasonable, however, to question things from time to time.  And what is happening with the carparking is a subject being discussed by supporters.  KTFC Chat is often a good outlet for such questions.  Sometime Patgod is better, particularly if the article spins onto several paragraphs. With the additional details listed above, we have left the original article as originally written - mainly because we wanted to ensure we still included the thanks expressed to Alumasc for their continued generous help over the years.  

Just to remind everyone, we always offer a fair right to reply to anyone who wishes to engage with us or may feel slighted by something we've written.  Unless you come from Rushden of course.  Or Corby.  Or are related in any way to Nicky Muttall.

**************************************************************************************************************

 Looking back over the past few months Patgod seems to have accidentally strayed into the territory of all-out positivity.  And it's taking it's toll on us.  It is wearing being so bonny and bouncy all of the time.  Time for a bit of a gripe.  Not about fairweather Glory-hunters wanting to stand where I usually stand.  Not about the FA Cup ticketing pandemonium.  Not even about the old stanbys of the price of beer and admittance. 

No, this is more of a peculiarly British moan.  About roads.  And fair play.

It can't have escaped anybody's notice who uses the Alumasc carpark that we are now being encouraged to make a donation for the privilege.  Let's be honest, without Alumasc's generous loan of their carpark the Poppies matchday experience would be an even more fraught endeavour.  What with the rapidly shrinking amount of on-street parking and numerous locals who seem to believe they own any road they can see from their front windows, it's no fun on the mean streets of Burton.  Had Alumasc asked for a small contribution for the use of their facility from Day One very few would have complained.

However, I doubt our voluntary fiscal contributions are reaching Alumasc and one is forced to consider, if this is the case, how comfortable it sits to make money from their generosity?  Is it ethical?  Is it legal?  Not only that, but during the past couple of visits there has been a definite sense that payment is less voluntary than EXPECTED and expected to be a couple of quid.  One is left with the distinct impression that, before long, the voluntary element of any contribution will be dropped in favour of an admittance fee.  Sure, other clubs do this.  But I'm pretty sure no one else is levying a charge for a carpark they don't actually own.

And what is being done with the money so far raised?  It certainly isn't been used to fill that ridiculously enormous hole in the carpark just outside of the social club that has quietly been growing this season from the size of large dinnerplate to the size of a small continent.  I'm not certain the BBC will be too impressed if one of their technical vehicles pops a crank-shaft into it's fathomless depths next weekend....

The Referee navigates the Latimer Park
carpark with greater intent than
he did the Latimer Park pitch

Fascinating Facts About Doncaster

Up until recently (well 2011!) Patgod used to introduce the following week's opponents with articles titled "Fascinating Facts About (insert opponents name here).  Curiously this fluffy piece of half-researched nonsense fell from favour when we stopped playing teams like York City, Wrexham, Mansfield and Cambridge in favour of teams like Arlesey,  North Greenford United and, of course, Chalfont St Peters.  There was only so many times we could bring ourselves to either lean heavily on Wikipedia or even make up shite about places the size of Thrapston that were expected to give us a good thumping a few day later.

Never afraid to dust off a hoary old chestnut in the chase for the blue tick on "The Musk 4 Trump Network", we present some guff about the hometown of our FA Cup opponents, Doncaster.

• Like Kettering, Doncaster traces it's history through Roman and Anglo-Saxon periods.  They were granted a charter to hold a market in 1248, fully 21 years after we'd been granted ours.  In your face Doncaster you Johnny-Come-Latelys!  Chances are that their market today eclipses our small cluster of stands selling old vinyl, out-of-season clothing and eye-wateringly-expensive posh loaves.
• Doncaster Airport is home to the last Vulcan bomber to fly.  This is the Vulcan that buzzed Rockingham Road about 15 years ago and by doing so almost won that season's  Player of the Year vote.
• At the time of writing Doncaster has two theatres and two cinemas.  This is likely to be two more of each than Kettering in a month's time.
• The phrase "Earl of Doncaster" was shorthand in the first season of "The Blackadder" for homosexual.  

Doncaster is the birthplace of numerous famous faces, including: -

• Bubble-permed former footballing great, Kevin Keegan
• Car f**ker, and selfless defender of millionaires in wellies everywhere - Jeremy Clarkson
• A still living former member of One Direction
• Alleged comedy writer Roy (Last of the Summer Wine) Clarke
• Loveable goggly-eyed Emma Chambers from The Vicar of Dibley.  An actually funny comedy
• Soprano Lesly Garrett, basically a third rate version of Faryl Smith (isn't it about time we got her back to a Poppies game and actually let her sing this time?)
• Professional shouter and sometime actor Brian Blessed, star of the previously mentioned "The Blackadder", which contrary to perceived wisdom, was the second best season of Blackadder after Blackadder II.

Looking back at these articles we were struck by the number that gratuitously included photographs of attractive women who just happened to have been born in the towns or cities we were honouring.  Or lived there.  Or visited.  Any excuse really to include a pretty face.  Obviously, in these more enlightened times we naturally draw back from such obvious and needless titillation.  In other news, here's another actor originally from Doncaster, though thanks to Received Pronunciation and years at the RSC, you wouldn't know it - the lithe and lovely Diana Rigg.  Former Avenger, Bond girl and latterly co-star of The Detectorists.  Another funny comedy.

Telford Day Redux

Long time readers will know the shorthand for an unexpected and quite shattering turnover in front of a big home crowd.  Just utter the phrase Telford Day and instantly it communicates something that will evoke shudders down the years.  Having minted the description, we found plenty of occasions to use it!

It got to the point where Telford Day decided to retire itself in protest at our tumble through the divisions. To the point where a ‘big’ home crowd was one in which you couldn’t be sure of your favourite spot if arriving one minute before kickoff.

Eventually Telford Day decided to make a comeback. However, in a twist on the old format, it chose to reinvent itself as an absolute shellacking by a former Conference rival, rudely emphasising how far we had fallen.

The pilot episode of Telford Day II: Mission Impossible was last season, when a Bucks team eyeing the playoffs strolled to the easiest of 4-0 wins.  Given our previous form, almost an above par outcome.  

That would probably have been that, had we not lived to fight another day in this division, but no one back then could have foreseen Telford Day III: Resurrection.

It was about time this tired old franchise had a complete reboot, and kudos to the new production team because the latest version is a massive improvement.

Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t yet seen the full recording, but whilst the concept remains Kettering v Telford, the format is turned on its head. Inspired casting delivers a versatile ensemble who can run, pass, defend AND score, in the process inflicting a demoralising beating. But this time it’s not the team in white!

Enough said. Five stars!!   

Coming to a ground near you soon

Two words. Miserable Sod!

An unexpected downside of live TV coverage of the Poppies is the possibility of being introduced to millions of viewers as a miserable sod.  

Worse still, numerous friends and relatives who know you to be a frothy, fun and happening guy, overflowing with wit and jollity, see what you look like when "enjoying" the Poppies.  And then tell you how miserable you look via numerous WhatsApp messages and BBC freeze-frames of you looking oh-so glum.

We can't all be gurningly-grinning bundles of annoyingly bouncy positivity like Vince. but bloody hell, how f*cking miserable did I come across on the telly?

Miserable Sod

Digging deep for victory, but otherwise miserable

Wearing a hat.  A miserable hat

God knows.

 

Catching up on emails.  Miserably.

Keeping up to date with Strictly Come Dancing

Silvano finally has enough of my grimness
and steps in armed with his usual overflowing
bounce and brazen cheerfulness and just about
manages to coax a reluctant smile

One word. Wow

So how’s the head today? Has it sunk in yet?  For those of us lucky enough to be at Sixfields, we saw something that will take some beating. Maybe we’ll never see anything like it again – for a few weeks at least!  In the town that’s home to a certain brewery, this was truly a case of if Carlsberg did FA Cup away days…

Where to begin?  So much to process, we promise we will get it all down by about the 6th or 7th blog.  Maybe get the one gripe out of the way early.  The pre-match arrangements were a bit of a shambles.  Not so much the decision to frisk (smuggling in those flares must have been, um, uncomfortable) but then forcing early arrivers to cram into a narrow fenced strip with no toilets and a 30 minute wait to buy a drink. Less of a fan zone than a holding pen for illegal migrants. Not good.

Our support was, of course, phenomenal. Long before kickoff it was kicking up a racket that pretty much held for the full two hours ahead and was picked up very nicely by the TV mikes. This wasn’t your typical ‘big day out’ minnow club, with their small hardcore swelled by floating neutrals, our stands were packed with big bellied old bastards who knew all the songs and had muscle memory of days like these.  Been there, done that, wearing the old replica shirt! 

The BBC, scratching their heads for a balanced punditry combo, weirdly opted for a kind of Wycombe love-in, pairing Akinfenwa and Ainsworth.  At first it definitely seemed their sympathies leaned towards the brotherhood of League pros trying to avoid a banana skin. Not much was said about the threat that we posed apart from namechecking the couple of players viewers might have heard of. By half time their old school wisdom was that the only way back for us was to go direct and “ugly”. Clearly neither had done their homework on this Poppies side, who far from going ugly just upped their passing accuracy and inspired growing belief.

To be fair though, by the end they had correctly diagnosed that we can, in fact, play a bit, and were hailing Lavs for his bold approach.

Before the game, most of us to be frank would have settled for a performance and a goal. When it was clear we’d got both, thoughts turned to could we do it in the 90?  Extra time, wasn’t that when superior fitness usually told?  Someone behind me mentioned Leeds. Nobody seemed to have told this Poppies team.  Mixing unbelievable graft with class and composure, this was a display that tore up the plucky underdog script of backs to the wall, shots hacked off the line and occasional long punts downfield.  

Though there was one delicious late hoof by Hooper that ate up a few precious seconds!!   

The memory of the final whistle and the long and joyous scenes sums up everything that has sustained us through the bad times. For anyone who was there on that terrible final day at Nene Park, this was your reward. Or on a cold night at Corby. Or getting drenched at Latimer Park watching us take on Chalfont St Peter. We hung on in there, often questioning our sanity but hoping and praying that one day it would be worth it.

Saturday November 2 was that day.

So onwards we go for another tilt at a poor unsuspecting scalp (we hope) – although after Sixfields it’s a fair bet that absolutely no one will take us lightly.    

 "Viewers in the Northampton area may find some scenes disturbing"