Plenty of Grounds for Optimism

I think we can all agree that it has been quite a jolly, bumper-wheeze to see the Poppies back on the television and becoming part of the national footballing conversation once again.  A few bob in the bank and Luca's headed equaliser at the Cobblers on constant loop on the old Betamax.  It's fair to say that we would have all taken the current situation at the start of the season. 

An unexpected downside of our exposure though is the introduction of Latimer Park and it's limitations to a wider public.  We all know and mostly accept that our home isn't the greatest footballing temple in existence, but I certainly could do without my armchair Premier-league watching Boss weighing in with his ill-informed two-penneth.  This despite the fact that he has actually visited the club once when we managed to wangle a match-sponsorship out of our company bosses several years ago.  My boss turned up in a silk shirt and light jacket for a January fixture and ended-up watching the second-half of the game from the warmth of the match-sponsor's room.  And this was before we had the excellent Club 1872 facility we enjoy today.  Back then it was a cramped little room stuck away in a corner office

My boss had plenty of opinions of the televised games, our players, our facilities and particularly our pitch.  To be fair, he spoke well of a number of our players, suggesting they MUST be pretty good to be able to play on the Burton bobble-patch.  Ha-bloody-ha.

But, it got me thinking.  As I mentioned earlier, WE kind of accept Latimer Park for it's faults because we also see all the good things there and we know how much the ground and facilities have improved in the dozen years we've been here.  The Social Club at LP is a far better bar and certainly far better utilised than the Tin Hat ever was at Rockingham Road.  And, even though we'll never have a main stand to compare with the leviathan we had at Rockingham Road, we must have had almost as many seats at Latimer Park for the recent Doncaster cup game! 

But it wasn't until I found the images I've included in this article that I truly realised how much Latimer Park has been improved over the years from a literal field to a ground that has hosted National North football.  Some are from THAT play-off final with Slough, when we realised just how many people you could fit around a roped off pitch, while others show the ground in all of it's arboreal glory!  And, how bare was the Morrisons Hill back in the day?  It looks a bit wilder now!

Hamish Remembered

News of the passing of Hamish Young will have saddened a lot of Poppies fans of a certain vintage. The words larger than life appeared in many an online comment, and he was certainly that. Noisy, passionate, abrasive, funny, thin skinned and big hearted, he was all of these things. For a number of years he was unmissable in or around Rockingham Road.  Everyone knew him and he knew everyone. Then one day he stopped coming to games and we never saw him again. Why? I imagined it was in umbrage at something or someone that had offended him. Not hard to imagine, if you knew Hamish. Probably completely wide of the mark.  But a real shame nonetheless because he was a big presence and left a lot of fond memories.

Saturdays on a Travel Club coach run by Hamish were often far more fun than the actual match we were off to see. On pulling up in the football club car park, Hamish would loom at the coach’s doorway, vast belly under a replica top, and greet boarding passengers with a mix of warmth and genial abuse. From front to back the bus had its micro communities. Closest to the driver sat Hamish, up in his cockpit. Across the aisle, Joan and Bet, the hooligrans, regularly teased by Hamish with remarks that would make Gregg Wallace blush. A few rows of respectable, generally older punters then we started to enter beer monster territory. Sometimes, briefly, a small pocket of normalcy in a group Hamish dubbed The Sophisticates (not a compliment), probably because they ate with a knife and fork, then we reached the back row of seats, the domain of the Inbred Village Idiot Faction (their words) led by DT, who by this point was thumbing the latest Good Beer guide for lunchtime ideas or had his head stuck in a railway mag.

Once safely along the winding journey to the M6 at Lutterworth (it was always Lutterworth, or felt like it) Hamish roamed the bus, dispensing badinage and body odour.  His armpits were a chemical weapon, used to neutralise dissent and deal with offenders. On one occasion I copped the treatment and from then on was a total choirboy. By noon the bus was disgorging its load in a small market town where the pubs were about to see a surge in takings, then there was a game of football, then the journey home began.

I think it was returning from Gateshead that I first had the pleasure of sharing a meal with Hamish. It was fancy dress day on the bus and he was of course dressed as Father Christmas, though not the sort you’d find in a grotto. The long journey south was broken at Retford, and whilst DT and crew went off to sink a few more ales a few of us located a curry house. There Hamish performed his party trick: order two different curries, mix them together into a giant spicy porridge, form mouth into tube and ingest.  The resulting sound was like industrial slurry disappearing up a vacuum pump.  Not for the fastidious!

These Travel Club curries became a regular feature and livened up many a homeward journey. Hamish of course loved them, because the one thing previously missing from his perfect day out was a mountain of nosh. This is perhaps surprising, as in all other respects he was an excellent organiser. He took the TC from strength to strength across several seasons, sometimes running two or even three coaches to cope with demand. Then there were the big FA Cup away days, when the Cattle Market saw 20 or more lined up under the Travel Club banner. All went smoothly and to plan.

No trip was complete without Hamish having a brush with someone in authority.  It must have been his classic Caledonian persecution complex. Things that you or I might meekly shrug off rather than make a fuss, Hamish saw as an absolute line in the sand. A typical example was at Yeovil on our first trip to what was then their new ground. The away end had yellow lines to mark gangways. Being unfamiliar with such things on what was just a normal open terrace, we stood on them until being ordered not to by the stewards. All except Hamish, who raged at this nonsensical rule and kept at it for so long, WE were begging them to throw him out!

He certainly called it right with Mark English, seeing through this gobby wide boy from early on and throwing his personality into rallying opposition, including through those tense days until we knew if we still had a club left to support. Had he stuck around, I think Hamish would also have made short work of Ladak and his Nene Park mirage.

So RIP Hamish, a legend in your own (extended) lunchtime and a big part of what made KTFC enjoyable back in the day. A lot of us would settle for even a fraction of that.   

The big man as we'll always remember him

(with thanks to Paul Cooke for the photo, and apologies for cropping him out!)

Doncaster Unpacked

Yep ok, it would have been amazing to pull off another win to reach Round 3, but could our heads (and wallets) have handled another 6 weeks of giddy anticipation?  Could Allez Allez Oh t-shirt sales have met demand or would we be sending out to China for another shipment? Would going to Hull have made all that less of an issue? Whatever, think of the emotional crash landing when it was finally over, the Christmas decorations had come down, Blue Monday was looming and it’s Redditch away next week!

The run was exciting, huge fun and all the better for being far beyond anyone’s expectations, but it’s probably best that it’s over at this point. Getting lucky with two televised games plus all the spin off benefits has probably earned us as much as a decent 3^rd round draw, plus rebooted wider interest in the club. Going further could potentially have been a distraction when it will now be a major disappointment if this season doesn’t end in promotion.

But before packing away our tinfoil FA Cups until the next time, a few thoughts on a day when everyone associated with KTFC did themselves proud and Billy Sharp did not.

Off the pitch

Preparing Latimer Park for easily its biggest day so far was no mean feat. There was no crib sheet from previous occasions where we hosted live tv, a capacity crowd and VIP guests at what is still, despite many improvements, a distinctly unglamorous field of dreams chiefly known for mud and bobbles. Everyone involved had a planning challenge that I think we can say was fully met.

Some recent practice at getting there early paid off, with no particular congestion.  The ground was filling up a full hour before kick off, leaving fans plenty of time to discuss exciting new features such as portaloos, extra seats and an actual working scoreboard created solely to record aggregate Cup goals since the 19^th century. A most unusual idea, somebody must think it’s significant somehow. We also very much enjoyed speculating on whether the cameraman atop the Tin Hat, almost overhanging the pitch, would be dinged off his perch by a wild attempt on goal.   

 New to Latimer Park, Alex reflects on her brave wardrobe choice

Everything seemed to work about as well as it could have done, so huge credit to the officials plus army of volunteers who pulled it off. However you know how it is. You try to think of everything, then the game very nearly gets under way with two orange training goalposts still firmly stuck in the hallowed turf. Obviously left there by the Doncaster warm up crew - we may only be part time, but we do some things better.  The referee didn’t notice (not the last thing he failed to spot), the nearby lino didn’t either, nor any of the players.  Had an early ball down the wing encountered the same poles covering the left back position it could have been a viral moment. Training apparatus stops play - another first for the mighty Poppies!

As for the classic cup tie ingredient of a roaring atmosphere, somehow the memo didn’t reach Doncaster. Back when Donny visited Rockingham Road a few times in the late 90s/early 00s, their fans had that extra volume that you only usually heard from pro clubs temporarily down with the likes of us. This lot mostly watched in silence.  On the other hand, the home fans gave it their all. Maybe a good chunk of them were new or returning faces but they certainly sounded like they cared, which is half the battle. 

Memories are made of this

Now what counts is how many come back again. 2,000 against Biggleswade on Boxing Day?  Why not?  Lavs seems to have the knack of willing certain crowd sizes into being, so go for it.  One of the many good things to come out of the cup run is that the idea of a large crowd squeezing into LP no longer feels (a) highly unlikely or (b) a big logistical headache.  We’ve had a crash course in how to manage it, both as a club and as paying punters. Ideal preparation for our return to the next level!

On the pitch

Our hustling style of play against opponents who were expected to be faster and fitter, combined with the heavy pitch, must have been exhausting and in extra time we ran out of gas, but what an effort. A very good team at this level met a good team from 3 leagues higher. The result was closer than it might have been, we competed to the very last minute, no one left an ounce of sweat in the tank, as supporters we couldn’t ask for more. Maybe the one disappointment was that our celebrated ex Premier League trio didn’t pose enough of a scoring threat, though they didn’t exactly spurn easy chances. Jonny Edwards with something to prove would have been interesting, but it’s academic. He wasn’t available.   

Controversial opinion alert**  Isiah was quite clearly the player of the match. He not only scored the best goal, he rampaged all over, harried, tackled, won the ball, fell over, lost the ball, chased, extended a telescopic limb, won it back, and kept driving forward until he dropped or, in Sharp’s case, was elbowed. He was incredible. Even collapsing in pain and having to hobble off was just a temporary lull. What desire from the young man. We have an absolute diamond here. The fact he wasn’t picked as MoM is just one of those weird quirks, like Joe Dolce keeping Vienna off the top of the charts. I imagine Troy Deeney was somehow involved in rigging that too, which is probably not what actually happened, but let’s assume he was. Sharp did what good strikers are paid to do but was a total dick with it, whereas Isiah is so likeable you want to give him a big fat hug.

So very well played, rest up, bank the good memories and go out there and win this bloody league.

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"

You're History!

In an effort to prove how much of our lives we've wasted on Patgod and foisting our unformed and uninformed opinions upon the great Poppies public, we've trawled the archives for our coverage of the previous FA Cup tie against the Cobblers.  If nothing else it shows how little has changed in the 35 years (35 YEARS!!!) since that game.  Times may change.  Players and managers come and go.  Likewise with stadia.  And yet, we Poppies fans continue to happily kid ourselves that with a few good games under our belt that we are a match for anyone.

Below, if you can make it out, from Issue 4 was our attempt at satirising the Cobblers Cup Draw back in 1989, happily falling back on the fact that they shared their ground with the County Cricket team while we lorded it from the lofty glory and permanence of mighty Rockingham Road...ahem.

What WAS the same then as now was the fact that the Cobblers were struggling near the foot of League One (or Division 3 in old money) eventually finishing in one of the relegation slots.  We ended up finishing in our usual mid-Morris period 5th in the National League (again, for older readers, the Vauxhall Conference).  

That latest return to Division 4 for the Cobblers culminated, 4 years later, with the infamous season when they finished rock bottom of the League, exactly TWO PLACES in the pyramid above us, with only Kidderminster bloody Harriers and three bloody points preventing us from replacing the Cobblers in the Football League.  Yes, you young 'uns, we were once THAT close....

The Sheep?
Don't ask....perhaps our version of Page 3.....

1989 and all that

The last time we faced Northampton Town in a serious competitive match, the world was a very different place.  Just a few days earlier, the Berlin Wall had been breached, setting off a chain that led to the collapse of the Soviet Union.  Football was still coming to terms with the Hillsborough disaster and was yet to become fashionable. And we actually considered the Cobblers to be local rivals. 

Whether they felt quite the same about us is debatable – this always felt more of a one-sided, aspirational antagonism based 90% on geography and 10% on occasional Maunsell Cup clashes that no one really cared about. But as we turned into serious contenders for promotion to the Football League, we dared to dream that before long we would be competing on equal-ish terms. Hence the FA Cup draw offered perhaps a tantalising glimpse of things to come.

Or so the script was supposed to run. Things haven’t quite panned out that way since, although the Cobblers survived an almighty near miss a few seasons later.  Something that we prefer not to talk about because we had it in our power to swap League status with them… and blew it.  

Back to 1989 and the big match. Before managing to dig out an old cutting to refresh my memory, it was generally a bit hazy. Oh yes, there was a voucher scheme (sounds familiar) which led to over 3,600 attending the previous Saturday to claim their precious piece of paper. The ground capacity for the Cobblers game was set at 6,100 and was a sell out. That felt less than its actual limit, but these were post-Hillsborough days and caution was understandable. The atmosphere was loud and the Match of the Day cameras were there again. Barry Davies in his best headmasterly mode was poised to describe our win in Shakespearean terms, or something.

Sadly it became a case of much ado about nothing. Or a comedy of errors? Our big tactical gamble was to play a defender up front in place of the injured Ernie Moss. Neil Horwood seemingly entered Morris’s thoughts after scoring several in a 13-0 (THIRTEEN) midweek massacre of Daventry. He promptly exited his thoughts again after swiping thin air when through on goal early on.

The other moment which everyone who was there remembers (and plenty who weren’t) came after about an hour. Dean Thomas came marauding down the left, looked up and saw Shoey edging across, exposing his near post. Normally no great risk from 35 yards, except Thomas could really spank them from range.  For what happened next we refer you to every sleepless night Kev has had ever since!  

Such a horrendous flub was always likely to be decisive, and Northampton kept us at arms’ length to wrap up a win that was largely devoid of home threat. Then again, would you want to return to the away dressing room to face a fire breathing Graham Carr after a suffering an upset?

Fun fact: Eight of the Cobblers starting XI went on to play for us on the downward slope of their careers, plus of course we gained GC. And Neil Horwood lived happily ever after.   

The Poppies live on TV – a short history

With our beloved Poppies about to be thrust back into the national spotlight once more, even if just for a few fleeting hours before normality resumes, what better time to reopen old wounds reminisce about the previous occasions when national television came knocking.

Plymouth 1994

Sky TV brought many innovations to the coverage of football in this country. American style marketing and razzmatazz. Games on Monday nights. The whoosh. And live FA Cup coverage from Round 1 onwards. We didn’t have to wait long for an opportunity to land in our laps. Surviving just one tie in the 94/95 competition delivered us a plum home draw against a Plymouth side managed by Peter Shilton. And Sky picked it for their prime Sunday afternoon slot!  

Unlike previous occasions when we made the MOTD highlights, there would be a big build up (ooh), a temporary studio (gasp) and Richard Keys (…).  Not since hosting It’s a Knockout had the town known such giddy excitement. Even Weetabix got in on the act, plastering their name inside the ground for the one and only time.

With Super Carl Alford leading our attack, hopes were high that Shilton would depart even more lugubrious than normal. However, the team had a collective off day and left Andy Gray growl-less up on the gantry. Alford miskicked his and our only chance, Plymouth had buckets but just one was enough. We sloped off feeling like we hadn’t shown up to our own party. 

How we saw it.  Oh the wit...

Wrexham 1999

After a gutsy draw at the Racecourse earned us a home replay, Sky decided to give us another chance to register a shot on target in front of their cameras. To Rockingham Road they came on a November night, setting up their mini studio once more. Memory doesn’t quite stretch to recalling if we were again graced with their A Team. It feels more like they may have chosen to rest Keysey, and go with Alan Parry on coms. Equally Peter Morris had a tricky selection dilemma.  To play Sam Banya up front alongside McNamara or Hudson. Or try to win.

With or without Sam, this was another night when casual viewers must have wondered if non-league teams were allowed to shoot.  Wrexham soon took a two goal cushion, and whilst we made a better fist of it than against Plymouth, it was in truth another squib of the moist kind.  

Kingstonian 2000

History records that Sky were also present at our second and at this rate last appearance in the FA Trophy final. However even at this distance the memory of that day is still so painful, we would prefer not to dwell on it. Not so much the loss, but the fact it was to Kingstonian, who didn’t care a whole lot about it then and even less now.

Leeds 2009 (x2)  

Were it not for an ill-judged choice of shirt sponsor, it’s quite possible that our next live appearance would have been at home to Fulham. But Imraan knew best as he always did.  Fortunately, stunts were on the back burner the following season when we were paired with Leeds – or so we thought. This time ITV had the broadcasting rights and, no doubt hoping for a repeat of Histon knocking out Leeds the previous year, almost got their wish. A packed Rocky Road saw us lead for a while before Beckford earned a replay.  Then came the ultimate prize of a trip to Old Trafford for the lucky winners. But in Bully terms, would we be getting the speedboat or the steak knives?

To Elland Road, where the League One leaders and ITV4 lay in wait. It was, to put it mildly, a bit one sided, but somehow we kept the tie alive into extra time. And scored a brilliant goal – Heslop breaking from deep, ball swept to Partridge haring down the right, low cross whipped in and Elding there to meet it. Leeds stunned as 2,000 in the away end erupted. Eventually, inevitably, the dam burst in the second period of extra time but what a heroic performance that was. And Ladak couldn’t wait to let John Deehan know what he thought about it, by sacking him straight after the match. Just to add insult to the loss of that speedboat.

And that, boys and girls, was that until the next chapter at Sixfields. Odds on a Poppies win – maybe modest. Chances of George immediately sacking Lavs if we lose – probably smaller.    

Fence uncomfortable much Kev?

We've had worst Poppies supporting days than Monday 14th October 2024 I suppose.  We started the day by signing, arguably one of the best strikers in the league and ended it by drawing the Cobblers in the FA Cup.  Not too shabby.  Certainly known worse days.  Quite a few in fact.

The signing of Jonny Edwards is the most obvious example that, despite the protestations of our new owners and Lavs that a play-off spot is their aim this season, we are tilting for the title.  It's going to be tough.  One look at the League table shows how incredibly tight the top 10 is.  A run of wins you are on top of the pile.  A run of defeats and you are looking over your shoulder at the relegation scrap.  Few that have seen us at our best this season would doubt that we have as good a chance as anyone else to win the league.  

Edwards is the real deal, as anyone who saw his debut at Bromsgrove will attest.  He came on at half time, scored a penalty and were it not for numerous goal-line blocks and a keeper equal parts lucky and inspired, he would have finished with the match ball under his arm.  I thought it was amusing, though, that in the official club website write-up of Jonny's signing they mentioned his 3 goals in 2 games against us last season.  If anything, this diminishes his quality.  So abject were we against St Ives last season that only scoring 3 goals suggests he wasn't very good or trying very hard.  Such was the ease with which the Poppies were carved up at "The Quattro-Tech Westwood Stadium" last season that at one point even I scored a goal which was subsequently flagged offside.

The FA Cup draw was, obviously, the main news of the week.  The next morning on radio Northampton Kev Shoemake and Luke Graham were dragged onto the airwaves to talk about the County clash.  Disappointingly, BOTH of them remained stubbornly neutral about the match  Considering that between them they have something in the region of 250 appearances for us and (checks notes) ZERO appearances for the Cobblers, would it have been so hard to back your former team?  You do know that hoping your former team can spring a shock against the mighty Northampton Town ISN'T a hate crime?  Even on Radio Northampton.  We are as much in Northamptonshire as they are.  Do you think any former Cobbler players asked the same question wouldn't automatically back their former employers?  Of course they would.  And rightly so.  C'mon guys - we know you'd both love us to turn the Cobblers over.  Would it kill you to admit it?  

It's probably this lack of commitment-to-the-cause why Kev never quite, despite repeated efforts, managed to snag that elusive Poppies Testimonial game.  But hey, there's still time.....!  😉

Expect some more from Patgod about the upcoming FA Cup clash and perhaps a dig into the archives about our last encounter from back in more analogue days, where if both Neil Horwood and Shoey could handle a ball properly, the outcome might have been different.

Still got it!
Brett and Craig are equally amused that Shoey's
beer-gut repels another attack in the recent Legends game.

(c) Shorty

Hooked On A Feeling

As a very occasional poster on this blog, I think I need to check in about now or my access is revoked. So here goes… Where were we?  About the last time I troubled the scorers, we were just pulling clear of another demotion thanks to a couple of wins, the club was up for sale but no one seemed to be interested, turning up to games was done out of a sense of duty or masochism, and the pitch was still a spilled pint away from being unplayable.      

Pretty remarkable what’s happened since.

Plenty of people have said the same but I echo that this feels like one of those once in a generation resets. A combination of new management, new ownership, new players and new-found belief. All interlinked and self seeding. Without the management would the players have come? Without the ownership would the belief be there? Without the belief would the ownership be there? Without the players would the fans be there? Without the, er, well, whatever! It’s happening!

George speaks very well about his vision for the club and at present seems to have about a 110% approval rating. The last owner who breezed in with such an impact was only held back by a few minor flaws, like appointing his fanboy hero as manager despite obvious disqualifications, pandering for publicity and moving the club miles out of town on a very dubious business case. George so far shows no sign of doing any of these things. As would any normal, rational human being. Plus you can’t help but trust someone called George. But not Zippy.

Lavs has assembled a squad not just to compete but to entertain, a conscious policy whereas plenty of others would’ve gone for the solid, grind out results option. We saw something similar many years ago with Gary Johnson, but the difference is that this bunch can also defend. Expansive, attacking football has put >300 on our home crowds, which in turn is starting to fund ambitious signings like Edwards. And Nile until his rehabilitation gets him noticed again.   

Lastly there’s the home game experience. Latimer Park doesn’t have a whole lot going for it but it does have a large clubhouse and adjacent space (unlike Rockingham Road, even I must admit), so smart move to make the most of it.  Good food and live music – it’s crazy but it might just work. And if that still holds water on a January midweek, we will truly know that this club is now blessed. 

Ready to buzz on Saturday!

Unluckiest Poppies Shirt Ever?

Unluckiest Poppies Shirt Ever?  Boy, that's category with a lot of runners and riders.  And an awful lot of front runners.  A lot of dodgy seasons swathed in a lot of dodgy kits.  But there's one shirt that always struck me as THE unluckiest Poppies shirt ever.  This one.

Why?  Well, to ruin your day, let's all look back at our last season in National North under the inspiring leadership of Lee Glover.  Lots of draws and defeats.  Just enough wins to keep us interested.  Great days (!)  A season where if we'd shown just 1% more gumption over nine months we'd still be in National North, enjoying regular Northern gumpings and 4 hour coach journeys.

That season, the away goalkeeper shirt, manfully modelled by the freakishly long-limbed Cameron Gregory struck me as a thing of exquisite beauty.  Grey and black with a two-tone Poppies badge.  Absolutely gorgeous.  Unfortunately, the half-mad, and three quarters blind officialdom of the National League decreed that the shirt was too close in colour to the referee and linesmen.  Obviously our betters believe not only that black and grey are the same colour but also that refs, linesmen and goalkeepers are stood alongside each other so much over the course of the average game that confusion might well reign.....

So, this fabulous shirt was hidden away from decent society for most of the season.  And then, IT happened.  We had an away game at fellow strugglers Bradford Park Avenue.  The day started well.  We parked no more than 20 feet from the entrance to the ground.  We then enjoyed a spectacularly fine pre-match meal in the their social club.  Gangly Gregory took to the pitch in THAT shirt and it looked fantastic.  And then we went into an early, deserved lead.  All was looking good for 3-points on the road and a moderate stride towards league survival.

And then.....

Gregory got caught up in some unfortunate shenanigans and received a red card.  Exactly why he was sent off I can't say.  I was at the other end of the ground on a dull afternoon and all I can recall is lots of chest-bumping and finger-pointing, followed by an early bath for our net-minder.  The still-gorgeous shirt was handed to George Forsyth who was equally moderately OK in goal as he ever was in midfield.

But, the damage was done.  Down to 10-men, BPA pummelled us.  It was well after the 90 minutes was up that Bradford finally snatched an equaliser.  In hindsight a devastating equaliser.  We can't blame the grey shirt directly, but....

• In it's first appearance, the goalie was sent off.
• In it's first appearance we dropped 2-points, which, in the final analysis, would have been enough to keep us up.
• In it's first appearance we saw the last appearance of Cameron Gregory who was more than happy to sit out his ban whilst nursing a new, improved contract at Boston United rather than continue fighting with us.

That's a lot to dump on a single shirt that was, to my knowledge, worn in just this one game.  That said, I have attempted a one man campaign to redeem this shirt's reputation.  A campaign that reached it's zenith last season when it and I finally managed a Klondike win at just the millionth attempt.

F*ck the North!

It is in the nature of being "The Hero" that the hero has a flaw to raise the confrontational stakes and encourage their enemies.  Their Achilles heel.  Superman has his Kyptonite.  James T Kirk could never resist a bit of Intergalactic-soft-focus-totty.  Captain Ahab wouldn't let go of his Dick.  Moby, that is.  The ancient Greek warrior Achilles had his, well, Achilles heel I suppose.  

And, after facing our third opponent from t'north this season it has become pretty obvious where the otherwise free flowing Poppies of 2024 come unstuck.  Namely against any team that plies their trade north of the Trent.

Our victory over Stafford Rangers in the FA Cup should have been an early warning.  Sure, we won.  And played them off the park for 75% of the game.  But we were forced to hold on at the end for a 2-1 win rather more than the initial 45 minutes would have suggested.

And then Cleethorpes came to Latimer Park and missed chance after chance before we squeaked home with a last gasp penalty.  And now, Gainsborough have come along and well and truly made us pay for our earlier good fortune and avenged Cleethorpes by calmly putting us away with very little fuss.  

The way both Cleethorpes and Gainsborough out-played us was very similar and very telling.  Their football was simple but incredibly effective.  Every time we had the ball one or two of their players nipped around our ankles until we either passed back or were dispossessed.  When they got the ball from us they passed it forwards fast into channels or to feet and were having a shot on goal moments later.  Nothing very clever.  

But against Nu-Poppies, who are always looking to spread play or tip-tap prettily in the middle of the park, the tactics were overwhelmingly successful.  This is how Northern teams play.  A bit of steel.  A lot of hassling.  No fussing about when in front of goal.  We've got to toughen up in these sort of games and perhaps have a Plan "B" when pretty, pretty isn't working all the time.

Suddenly, next week's FA Cup tie up at Farsley is looking a whole lot tougher than it did last week.

He's Northern
He drinks beer
He smokes tabs
He has Poppies for breakfast

A Tale of Two Debuts

Who can forget the complete humbling the Poppies suffered at St Ives on Boxing Day last year?  A performance so abject that the 6-0 defeat actually flattered US.  Jim's honeymoon period coming to a crashing end. Rhys Sharpe having the worst single game I've ever seen a player give in a Poppies shirt, and I've seen Nathan Koo-Boothe play while not entirely fit, and hadn't received his wages.  This was the day when the possibility of back-to-back relegations suddenly didn't look the least bit remote.

Among the many watching-through-fingers moments of that hideous afternoon in Cambridgshire the completely anonymous, walking speed debut of Bruno Andrade went under the radar.  I seem to recall seeing him flitting around on the fringes of the game without contributing much (not alone by any stretch of the imagination) and assumed we were literally just playing anyone who answered the manager's call.  By season's end, when Lavery had bullied our lazy collection of Leese signings, sprinkled with a few successful loanees into a half-decent team that dragged itself out of the relegation scrap, Bruno had turned in a few decent appearances and vital goals.

Such was the upturn in form and performances that Bruno featured as one of the very few players we wouldn't have minded seeing returning for this season.  I seem to recall the entire list was, Marzano, possibly Bruno and Dan Jarvis (who obviously wouldn't be back as he's just become "Player of the Season.")  To most people's surprise Bruno popped up pre-season as one of Maidstone's "glamour signings".  We shrugged our shoulders and awaited the results of Lavery's labours.

Fast forward a few months and we're back at St Ives, and blow me down, Bruno is lining up to make his second debut for us at the scene of his inglorious first debut.  The club and team, though, is barely recognisable from the scared shambles they were just a few short months earlier.  Yesterday, backed by 10 quality teammates Bruno took the chance to twist, turn and shine for the Poppies and capped it off with a fine goal.  Despite missing several good players to injury the Poppies are looking the real deal.  Had we not played within ourselves during the second half yesterday we might well have entirely erased last season's humbling at St Ives's hands.  At the moment we are looking so sharp, we could probably even afford to carry a few Andy Leese signings and still win games.  Yes, we are looking THAT good.

Poppies celebrate yet another goal against St Ives.
It will NEVER be a chore typing that!

Waterworld 2: The World Has Turned Upside-down

 

The pitch being readied at Latimer Park TODAY, when huge swathes of the Midlands are under so much water that there is a distinct chance of spontaneous de-evolution happening and many people reverting to breathing through gills.....

....compared to relatively recent times like this, when someone spilling the frothy head off of their pint in the Social Club caused a month's worth of postponements!

Ah yes, I remember it well.....

Last night there was another excellent evening arranged and hosted by Paula Conde-Sharpe in the 1872 lounge at Latimer Park.  In front of a well fed-and-watered audience, Colin Vowden and Craig Norman reminisced about times and players they encountered during their times at the Poppies.  Until it was mentioned on the night it hadn't occurred to me that we were listening to the only two, possibly ever, Kettering Town FC players to score for us at Wembley Stadium.  Wow.  

It is always great to hear former players talk in such warm, humorous tones about their time with OUR club.  Whether it's players slightly before your time discussing mad days and madder players you've heard of but didn't personally recall, or people like Shoey and Barry Fry who can basically talk forever and riff off each other until the cows come home, these evenings are invariably enormous fun.  And it is never, EVER unwelcome to hear someone tell you that their time with us was the best of their career.  Whether it's true or not (!)

Last night we had a couple of players that everyone over 40 will remember well, talking about times, players and events WE all recall (on good days....)  I heard the names of so many players and officials that I hadn't thought of in years.  Suddenly it was 1999 all over again and I was a snotty know-nothing 30-something listening to guys who made my life just a little bit better, and getting a chance to thank them for that.

It did set me thinking though.  Perhaps these evenings can only work with sportspeople?  Just imagine if we too were asked to go into a room of people we didn't particularly know, but they knew all about us, and breezily chat about our jobs and fellow employees from 20, 30 or even 40 years ago!  Can you imagine?  How sh*t would that be?  

Who would want to hear about the time someone wildly overordered stationery?  Or be regaled with tales of IT issues you manfully managed to overcome (spoiler - turned it off and on again). Or the time Marie in the finishing department said you'd look good with a mullet, only to find out when you were well on the way to committing that folliclular faux pas that she was already going out with one of the spotty-herbert no-marks from Plant 2.  Or even try to desperately remember the names of people who were fully part of your life for a year or two, so long ago?  And then try to make these patchy recollections in any way amusing.....Nope, these evenings aren't for us regular folk!

Time's Up!

We all know that the larger gates we seem to be getting this season are a right pain in the arse.  Having to queue ever-so-slightly longer for beer and burgers is enough to make any reasonable person start spitting dummies out and throwing toys out of prams.  And after that, finding a random stranger standing where you usually prop yourself is enough to well and truly tip you over the edge.  

Oh, for the Andy Leese days of ever decreasing support when you could still turn up at five to three, grab a pint, a bite to eat, verbally spar with Ken Samuel AND still not miss any action.  Mind you, truth be told, even if you'd turned up at five to FOUR under Leese's stewardship you'd probably not have missed any action.  At least, not in the opposition box.

Finding people at games that actually want to be there, rather than simply habitually turning up or being Poppies-institutionalised is a shock we're all having to deal with.  How many of these smiling interlopers will be here for Freezing February mid-week games is up for debate, but they're bloody well here NOW.

Another unwelcome by-product of more people heading to Latimer Park is that 3 of the 4 home games so far this season have had a delayed kick-off.  For some reason, unlike the whole entirety of the footballing world, we seem to be struggling to hit the correct kick off time, just because a few hundred more people want to see Lavery's Lovelies.  

How can we possibly sort this seemingly insurmountable problem that every other club has surmounted?  A couple of thoughts come to mind -

(A) How about arrive a bit earlier, or 

(B) Accept you might miss the start of the game as it's kicked off at 3PM.  Like normal.

Mm...that seemed a bit too easy.  I must be missing something.....

Not so hard, surely?

New Brooms in the Boardroom

It may be a surprise to many people the news that Poppies stalwart John Cecil is occasionally useful.  No, honestly.  Hear me out.  He's very handy when you start getting too happy at a game and he'll puncture your burgeoning optimism with a few pithy comments.  He's also very useful when trying to pick winners at a Race Night event.  Just back horses JC has a stake in - trust me, you won't regret it!

Graham desperately surveys the train-wreck
of the 2023/24 season

Recently JC questioned Patgod's lack of reaction to the end of Graham Starmer's reign as Chairman and as much as I wanted to tell him to stick his opinion, he had planted a tiny seed.  Not necessarily specifically about Graham's time at the top.  I mean, what do any of us truly know about how and what Football Club Chairmen do until they sack a manager or drag clubs to Irthlingborough?

I was reminded that in the (relatively) recent 150th Anniversary issue of Patgod we lovingly laid before an almost entirely apathetic public of an article about the various club Chairmen we had collectively suffered under.  There may or may not be copies of this Celebratory issue still knocking around at the club, who put even less effort into selling it than even we used to.  Last season there was a teetering stack of this issue in the club shop, but they have no doubt since been put out by the bins with the unfortunate "We're following Leese to Promotion" T-shirts.

The article about club Chairmen ended with the the tenure of Dave Mahoney.  In time-honoured Patgod tradition, the article was almost instantly out-of-date as Dave soon stepped down.  There followed a brief period of  administrative anarchy, with supporters rushing the Winter Palace and setting themselves up as some sort of anarchic collective to run the club for the masses.  There may of may not have been a nominal head of Chairman affairs at this time but no-one stood out until Graham Starmer assumed the role, presumably during a Stalin-esque purge.  

Graham's tenure coincided with us almost returning to the level of glorified park football.  Ritchie Jeune, sensing the club might soon be worth even less than the paltry sum he was asking for, stepped kind-of back into the role to appoint Lavery, keep us up and complete the sale of the club to George.  Now, George has assumed full Chairmanship of the club, with Graham being returned to the "back-benches" with the club's thanks.  Or a gulag in Siberia if I'm to stretch the Communist metaphors to breaking point....

So, there you have it.  Bang up-to-date again.  For now....

George surveys his start to Poppies ownership,
wondering will it always be so easy.
Clue, this is Kettering Town FC, so - no.  It won't.

We'd recognise him anywhere....

I'd watch those medals
or he'll have them away.