Royston the bogeyman

Well well well!! Play average and nick a clean sheet and 3 points away from the San Cherrio?? This step 3 stuff hasn't changed much since the last time we were here has it... was the main over cocky refuge of conversation post our victorious return from Cambridgeshire on Saturday evening. That said, thanks to those fixture arranging bellends at the southern league, our first homer would bring our old adversaries from last season back into the frying pan to try and continue their stretch as main protagonists in the 'pain in our arse' saga.

Ohhh hang on, first thing on the agenda though... Massive news from TheBoroWalk towers...

Anyway......

Keen to come along and inspect the tinpot egg cup they were so cruelly robbed of, at the end of last season, Royston rocked up to the hallowed turf of the RCS still in search of their first step 3 points after succumbing, at home, to Stratford Town on day 1. Both our results could well have gone either way so the laws of physics suggested this game would go 1 of 2 ways. Absolute goal-fest or squeaky bum nail biter. 

Team news? A case of as you were as the Molesey(you-next-Tuesday) effect still weighed heavy on the Boro line up with Mustard and Richlist forced to remain dormant. 4 subs again, with no real attacking options on the bench. We knew Royston were rigid and strong, like a phallic shaped set of brass knuckles. The hope was that we wouldn't get drawn into an up and under battle again as otherwise we'd really need to employ some sort of trojan-like horse effort for our little chaps up front. For the Royston potato peelers, a few new faces were apparent... but plenty of last seasons guard to evoke the nightmares of that brutal ball freezing night back in January.

Kick off came, following the indignity of the salmon losing the toss and having us kicking into the PRE. It would be the Roystonians who'd have the first semi sighting of the ballbag a couple of mins in when they found a few acres of space in behind "Ceejfax" Fearn, thankfully their frontman ballooned it like a clown at a job interview though.

Boro settled quickly once again, free of the burden of the chase which weighed so heavy at points last season. Cutting in from the right, Clintons rattled a sighter which caught the defender and meandered out for a corner. He got up to bend the resulting set piece on to the head of the salmon who still could not conquer the stream, heading high and wide.

Next came the move of the half, Reg setting things off to Clintons who sent out a heat seeker to the tappy toes of tiny dancer, down the right wing. He cut inside and set the hoffen on a surge, his final effort being somewhere between a cross and a shot, drawing multiple "ooooooohhhhhs" from the peckish PRE.

The Salmon was in usual angry bastard mode and picked up a yellow card to add fuel to his fire. I didn't see it as I was watching a kid walk down the side with 2 hot drinks, waiting to earn myself a £250 cheque from You've Been Framed. I'm told it was a touch heavy though. Shocking.

That was just the starter in the 2 course a la carte menu of disappointment which was being served up in quick succession. The resulting free kick was bundled over the top and a poor clearance from Johnny Regis and then The Easter Bunyan losing his man allowed someone called James TinPotton to steal in and ram one past Jagger and in to the corner of the brand spanking new ball bag net. 0-1

These things happen, nobody panic. Play our game, it'll come, game of 2 halves, put the ball in the onion bag, don't tell him your name Pike etc etc.

The Hoffen, still hungry for some touches found a quarter of an inch of space out on the right again and whipped in a centre which one of their big back lads headed juuuuust over. 

The Easter Bunyan then cranked up a gear as he did well to work himself in to shooting opportunities on 2 separate occasions. First gobbling up a shoddy goal kick before ultimately dragging his shot wide, before a nice move with Curonimo set him up to blast one into the top corner, but he opted for a side foot 'placer' delivered with about as much venom as an impotent earthworm.

Boro finally had the ball in the net on the stroke of HT as Clintons threaded it through to the hoffen, who'd be hanging on the shoulder of the last defender like a giant bag of oven chips. Unfortunately the linesman decided to 'play by the rules' and stuck his big old bellend flag up his arse.

That was pretty much it. We'd done well at the back, goal aside, but had been somewhat disjointed at times in the midfield. The lofted balls were not working against their rock hard spine. Needed more width and to get Clintons and tiny dancer running down their full backs. HT 0-1

Into the second half and after the visitors finally picked up a card for persistent bellendy-ness, Clintons took matters into his own hands and, robbing them around the half way line, finally surged at the shocked right back, beating him hands down and distributing a centre not seen since the Lib Dem gains of 2010. The Hoffen's run was absolutely perfect and it seemed an odds on ballbag buster... unfortunately their stick man had other ideas and managed to clamber it wide. Balls.

Boro continued to work hard, snubbing out any creativity the Roystonians tried to muster. The other BIG opportunity came towards the end of the half when a free kick was whipped in deep and high and "hightower" Saville rose to the summit, heading down to the far post. Again what would have happily nestled, on any other given day, was clawed out to safety by the ballbag stickman. It was at that point that the sinking feeling started to set in something chronic.

There was still time for Curonimo to unleash a rasping right foot half volley from the edge of the box, in the final moments, which dipped like a rich tea biscuit in a steaming cup of PG tips. It beat the keeper but also beat the crossybar. His reaction was just about spot on for us all.

Injury time brought Jagger back peddling into his own post when one of the boneheads tried to lob him... then Boro had 2 corners right at the death, the final one involving our full 11 in the box. But it wasn't to be. Our visitors clearly exuberant with the smash and grab and indeed their first ever points at this level. FT 0-1

Summary. Well it's true, we did play well, on the whole, and didn't deserve to lose. The Royston juggernaut, which hammered 8 past us last season, was pretty much completely nullified. Our centre backs had the visiting strikers in their back pockets, goal aside, which was evidenced by the multitudes of offsides across the 90 mins. 

Minor gripes from this old git? Their full backs had strokes when Clintons and tiny dancer ran at them. We had to be more persistent with the width and allow them to do what they do best.... cause confusion, damage and opportunities. They're 2 of the finest wing-masters in this league.

Less of the balls up in the air, it was clear their CB's were going to carry on winning headers against our little fellas. Also, why was Ceejfax at LB when we had Truncheon and/or Clintons and/or Reg to do that role?

Finally, no attacking plan B from the bench is frustrating (yes I know, budgets and all that). 

That is all! 

On to Saturday... LET'S CREAM THAT REDITCH!!

#UpTheBoro

A drop in the (St.) Neotian

The 12th August would go down as a frantic day at TheBoroWalk towers. Primarily because, at the start of the day, it looked like we'd have absolutely no representation at our historic opening day fixture back at step 3. The lottery of the summer hols 'holiday-offs', with the relevant *wives/offspring/work/time travelling companions (*delete as appropriate) left our numbers dwindling like Glenn Tamplin's brain cells at an infant school spelling bee. I know the idea of having your resources stretched, before the season has even kicked off, seems ludicrous... but surely it's just us. 😏(Ladies and gentemen... please enjoy our only blogger emoji of the season).
That said though, cometh the hour, cometh the WhatsApp notifications and out of the jaws of defeat came a plan. A plan so cunning you could stick a tail on it call it a 90's Norwich City winger. Thus it would come to pass that a combination of bribes, favours, lifts, spare socks, an ex-girlfriend's dad, a bbq pulled pork sausage roll and 3 asda bags for life would make the trip viable and mean that we were hungover and fucking miserable psyched up and ready for war.

The last week of pre season hadn't yielded too much in terms of positives. A narrow win at losechester, with Ipat Cox (ForALiving) sitting out on the overlords' "gentleman's agreement", wasn't very eventful. The trip to Molesey-u-next-tuesday turned into a massive flaming turd on the front lawn of our season as "Richlist" Forbes and "Mustard" Calcutt were cut down by a nasty little bellend of a trialist who we'll just call Max Molesey.

So as I sped into St.Neots train station, still catastrophically over the limit & looking to assemble a human leaning post for the afternoon's festivities, making it for kick off was still evens at best. That was in no way assisted by the small collective of half cut grannies, heading off to goodness knows where to do goodness knows what, who thought that the access road seemed to be the best place to congregate to talk about whatever the hell old women talk about pre getting on it. I'm guessing it was doilys, scone recipes & bloody foreigners. HOORAAH, there he is... "get in you prick, it's 10 to and I have a hankering for a Ginsters and a Yorkie. Hello Tesco Express."

Having nicked a late winner over Tesco Express (a), we descended on the picturesque surroundings of the  Premier Plus Stadium car park and, still in division 1 central autopilot, were very pleased to find a tidy little ground! Welcome back step 3, we've missed you. Nice little stand, lush shrubberies, plenty of well varnished sheds, a slightly sinister camera galley floating above a concrete wall... something for everyone!

Quick check of the team news confirmed the fallout from the battle of the Molesey prick. As feared, both Richlist & Mustard hadn't even made the bench. Chris "Johnny" Regis sprinted into the lineup along with other newly confirmed arrival, ball bag stopper, Liam "Jagger" Stone relegating "ChilliCon" Cairney to the trench bench. With "The Easter" Bunyan & Jack "hightower" Saville getting their debuts, it was certainly a case of out with the new and in with the new. Oh, and it was confirmed "Hucknall" Smith and Patty "woowoo" Ruzicka were off to B'field for a month.
Their goalie was called Emery so we played with some punnery around Dick Emery for a while and whether he'd be awful (ask your grandparents kids), until we noticed the ref was called Cheek. We pondered on whether he'd be an "arse" or a "turn-the-other".

A pretty frantic start as within seconds we were in their box and "Curo-ro-ro your boat" flicked a clever little toe poke down the stream which appeared to catch the defender on his sleeve holder. Pen? Seen them given, but the ref decided to turn the other.... oh, you know.

The hosts had their first meaningful soiree into the Boro box a couple of mins later as Clintons got maneuvered by their big no.7, he rounded Jagger only to find Clintons back on the line thwarting him with his notable girth.

Boro continued to show some cojones and forced a couple of corners. Notably "the Salmon" Huggins connecting with his first headed sighter of the campaign. "Tiny Dancer" Oyenuga took up where he left off last season, terrorising defences like a Jamaican backyard pyromaniac. It was one of his foxtrots to the bisexual line which resulted in the first glorious ceremonial bulging of the ballbag. His cross arrowed it's way in across the box and, spying his name up in lights, the Easter Bunyan took aim as he saw glory beckon. Then, in a show of unrelenting selflessness, he spotted Clintons surging into prime location and skillfully dummied* the ball into the path of the on rushing legend who coiled up his right peg and unleashed a curler of sickening clinicality. (*thanks for the tenner Matt, definitely not an air-shot-shanker). 1-0 Boro

That was sort of it in terms of meaningful Boro chances for the half. The Easter Bunyan picked up a booking for what we'll call a "team foul" after about 25 mins.

The Saintly Neotians continued to press but appeared to have left their final ball back in their pre season notes. Jagger putting on a solid performance, between the sticks, as and when required. Reg the ledge made a sublime last ditch tackle right on half time, that got a hearty round of applause from the readying snack bar faithful. HT 1-0

Were we good value for the lead? Yes, we scored one, they didn't. I guess that's soccer eh folks. Were our bums starting to squeak? That's affirmative. Were we gelling like a footballing superpower? Not really no, but it was our first game so fuck all of that, we just wanted to sodding win. I really was very hungover.

Chips in our bellys it was on to the 2nd half. First 15 was mostly them probing. Jagger made a save or two. Again, more shit balls in our final third was making them seem more wasteful then an obese belt convention.

Curo could maybe have done better when some hoffen/Reg build up play presented him with a header which he couldn't steer on target. We especially enjoyed the Reg blockbuster, a few minutes later, which, from our angle, seemed to move in the air like a ballistic missile. Ballbag protector did well to get his boots in the way.

"Truncheon" Hutchings and "Mischa" Barton took their places via some latter substitutions and, credit where it's due, we held out pretty valiantly in the face of some, at times, sustained pressure. Top marks go to the salmon for leaving nothing in the changing room. FT 1-0

Summary... not a game for the purist really. The Salmon and Cap'n Ceej looked solid, tiny dancer and Clintons looked dangerous when they could find the space and Reg continues to look solid as a cock. "Johnny" Regis needs to calm down a little and I'm not sure how effective the up and unders will be against the better defences of this league. That said... 1st day of the season, long old trip, 3 points, clean sheet & clear motorway the whole way back to 'boro... you cannot argue with that. Unless you're a really fucking miserable sod. We're just miserable sods.

It's the Royston potato peelers next.... that'll be fun.
Oh, we were due to empty out the business account too. Sponsorshit time... 

#UpTheBoro

Don't be tinpots in St.Neots

So here we go again. Another 9 months completely bereft of controversy and incident whereby nothing in any way noteworthy happens and we continue to not make any puns, write shed loads of absolute codswallop or talk about anything being tinpot.

Aaaaaaaand if you believe that, you're in for a long long fucking season my friend!

Preseason, in many ways, has thoroughly greased the cranking mechanism of that proverbial roller coaster we all love to hate. Signings, departures, mystery, spankings, a trophy, the rumour mill having us in meltdown, our overlord pulling off a couple of transfer coups and a reggae festival to boot.

Where are we off to first? St. Neots. No? No, us either... but Google is our friend and who doesn't love smashing the craphole out of some motorway to bring back all those memories of those glorious away days on route to us becoming the last ever team to go up from step 4, by finishing 2nd and winning an egg cup.

The Saints, as they're imaginatively nicknamed, are old hat in this league now having gained promotion back in 2012. Our very own Curonimo has close ties to the Neot'ians having been born in the same year as the original club was formed back in 1879.

So what do we know of the first team given the illustrious honour of welcoming us round their gaff? Well, not a fucking lot really because we're lazy fuckers. They've brought in a couple of the Barton lot from last season, so Connor "Mustard" Calcutt should be in full on banter-tastic mode during the warm up. They finished pretty low last season but have scored a butt load in preseason. They'll be gunning for us, so nothing more then our best will do.

Boro team news? The after effects of the bruising encounter with the Molesey knuckle draggers could have taken it's toll on the availability of some. "Richlist" Forbes, cap'n Ceej and "mustard" all were limping around like overworked prostitutes at a half-man half-horse singles night.
The arrival of Jackal "Fix-it" Saville (No, we're still in discussions with our legal team on where to go with that one), we suddenly seem heavy in numbers at the back. Wouldn't be surprised if someone's out the door before long. Will Spencer opt for his wingbacks or revert to a flat back 4?... Not a clue, not like he's going to fucking tell us is it. We're bellends with big mouths. Either way, "Truncheon" Hutchings and "tiny dancer" Oyenuga running the flanks most likely. Midfield is probably up for grabs more then anywhere else. The "Regis" factor could still come into play which, going on Molesey-u-next-tuesday, probably looks a good addition. Will the "Easter" Bunyan make his full debut? Hopefully so, because that's one of the finest nicknames we've bestowed up to this point. Front 3 seems to be the drug of choice again... and they pick themselves.

They're trialling a free minibus pick up service, from a couple of nearby pubs, are our hosts. That's non-league at it's beautiful best.

3 points please lads. Good luck. Let's fucking do this.

TheBoroWalk prediction : 6-4 'Boro

Squaddie.... Le Hants Tournoi... Ashford Eco Sport.... Winnebago-chester

The more avid of you readers will know that our first, ultimately pointless, words collective of the season left us dangling our testicles out of the car, on the newly completed smart M3, impatiently waiting for a long overdue squad update. What would 4pm bring??? Well, nothing as someone hadn't ordered more ink for the photo copier. A quick trip to Staples though and 4:26 would hail the revealing of the tasty morsels we'd all been eagerly waiting to gobble up like a carnivorous turkey at a post thanksgiving day parade all you can eat buffet.

The non-surprises? As suspected, armed forcing his way in as ballbag protector was Luke "Chilli(con)" Cairney. He was joined on the new bus by former Cambo-rambo unit Matt the "Easter" Bunyan. Both had already featured in the p-s BS.
On to the bigguns though... Spencer's only gone and got Curo back in. I mean... I think we'd all allowed ourselves to drift away and imagine it at intermittent points over the summer break, but to actually see it there on the screen was a thing of beauty. As we've said on numerous occasions. "He fucking loves it up the Boro". Welcome back Curo, evidently we can see what the rest of the non-league pyramid cannot. HE STILL SCORES GOALS FOR FUN YOU BELLENDS.
Probably the most surprising name on the update, aside from the confirmation CJF had signed his contract despite us being told he'd signed a contract weeks ago, was the unveiling of Kieron "Richlist" Forbes. Have to admit, this one came from nowhere. He played 28 times for conf south champs Maidenhead last season for goodness sake. Greatest coup since the Cuban revolution? Only time will tell, but with "Castrol" departing for his extra large plate of chips and ham, this was without doubt the most pressing area to be addressed across the squad.

Of the departees... Again, no great surprises. Curtis "Mayfield" Osano was taking a break from the game. Rumours were abound that he's being lined up to appear in the Indian version of big brother. We wish him well. We also finally got closure on Zaki-gate as it transpires his dream move to Algeria had fallen through. We don't know why, but to then be forced to trial at Basingstoke the following week is the epitome of insult to injury, so we wish him well... (Maybe at Whitehawk).
That left the massive white elephant of  'mandemonium' Pat "Butcher" Cox. He was still a Boro player and would be in the squad for the weekend. Frankly if you believed that, you'd believe anything.

The other HUGE announcement was this joint venture with the army, to service our training needs. Unfortunately, reading between the lines, this just meant we could borrow a tank to lift "Clintons" Ciardini out of his sun lounger after an over exuberant summer break.

SOOOO buoyed on by this rather fantastic news, the following day brought us back to the San Cherrio for the first time. With 2 games in 2 days, 4 if you fancied the other games, this was a veritable feast of localized soccer.  

"Richlist" went straight into the starting eleven and "Curonimo" carried on where he left off up top with Perry but with the added bonus of "Mustard" Calcutt playing anywhere along the line behind, above and below them. With the departures of Donnelly, Pearce and Osano, "Reggie" Emmerson started alongside Forbes in midfield and with "Truncheon" Hutchings on his holibobs or something, our esteemed leader chose 5 at the back with CJ, Huggins and Jack "Hucknell" Smith in a three with John "Tiny Dancer" Oyenuga at right wing back and Nic "Clintons" Ciardini on the left.

Despite a spirited start, the gulf in class became pretty apparent early on. HW won promotion to what was the Southern Division One Central last season and of course we are now back in the Southern Premier, so there is a difference and it told.

Across the weekend Perry and Curo hooked up like a couple of Love Island fuckers and on more than one occasions they finished each other off with aplomb.

On Saturday it was Curo that was the giver and Perry received gratefully. A hook over the top by Richlist set Curo away and he put it on a plate for The Hoffen to gobble up. 1-0.

It didn't take long for the second to arrive. A cleared corner was expertly but hopefully lofted back into the box by Reggie to the surprise of everyone but Perry, who anticipated it with sixth sense and volleyed it home. 2-0. Easy street.

HW were organised and lively and will be a useful outfit in Division One, but the passing and movement by Boro was too much for them.

Second half was much the same, one way traffic and a miriad of other clichés. The cherry on the cake was a sumptuous early contender for goal of the season. Perry picked the ball up to the right of the area about 30 yards out and curled in a cross that Curo reached to nod the ball back into the path of Mustard. Without breaking stride he hit it on the half volley on the edge of the box and sent it arrowing into the top right corner with his left peg. Booooooom.

The 5-0 badgering was completed by a Ruzicka (trialist) header from a Mischa corner and a Clintons penalty when he was the chicken and bacon in a club sandwich (three bits of bread, three players?!? Ah fuck off) and he picked himself up to spank into the bottom left of the ballbag.

Whilst we were in the bar post match (we would have stayed outside and utilised the new pumps in the F.A.S.T food hatch but it started spitting) Basingrad handed Fleet's arse back to them in a doggy bag, 6-1. So The "Dragons" it was in our first but by no means last cup final of the season.

The only difference to the Saturday was that The 'Stoke must've really hit the town celebrating their win as only the kids turned up on Sunday. We expected a test but it ended up being fucking target practice.

If there's one thing we learnt from this weekend it's that Perry "The Hoffen" Coles is solid gold diamond. He's the mutts dangly bits. Whereas the day before he was boffing them in the ballbag, Sunday he was a Pez dispenser. First up he chased down a lost cause, nicked it off their centre back and laid on a plate for Curo to slide it home.

Next, he hassled the midfield, turned infield and bent a beauty into Curo's path and he's not going to need to be asked twice, rounding the keeper liked he'd been doing it for 25 years. Oh hang on....

Two up at half time. AGAIN!

The third wasn't too long in coming. Reg got moved out to left back and was getting bored so he took a quick free kick and fucking leathered it onto the toe of trialist "Kleenex" Andradry, he slipped a peach into the box and Clintons tapped home. Opposite to the Spice Girls, Three became four when Hucknell flicked a perfect Perry corner into the far post.

We equaled our tally from the HW game when a poor clearance was knocked back into the box and as the Stokers watched and waved at the lino, another trialist, Everett (or Kenny as he'll now be known) looped the ball over the ballbag protector. Nice finish.

And we went one better when Ginger Jack got his noggin onto another corner and buried a bullet header into the onion bag. He's already taking The Salmon's mantel as numero uno plonker in of headerererers.

So that was that. As Spencer would say, it was minutes into legs and lead into the pencils.

Ashford of the sexers from the centre ground would hopefully put up a bit more of a bloody fight, and so it proved. The only change was that Reggie had gone for a few days off after completing 180 minutes in two days so Matt "The Easter" Bunyan was in.

A close first half resulted in only one goal, no prizes for guessing who, so I won't bloody tell you.

Going in at the break in the lead and with no goals conceded lead us into a false sense of security and we bloody let them score. Funnily enough it was some prick what done it.

A bit of jeopardy was just what the doctor ordered as we need to be able to come back and win when brought back down to earth but when you've got Perry Curo up front you know there's a pretty darn tootin good chance you will do just that. If this preseason hasn't left every defence in the Southern Premier shitting their collective pants at the thought of coming up against them then.....well they bloody should be.

A Tiny Dancer solo sojourn slalom round the static shitty sexers defence that made Maradona's against England look like a fat, drug addled prick waddling at Kenny Sansom and Terry Fenwick, added the "icing sugar" to the cake.

3-1 it finished, a little flattering maybe but you aren't going to pass up the chance to put a shine on proceedings.

Before we made the trip down the M3 to Winchester we discovered that the worst kept secret in North East Hampshire was true. They're putting a Nando's next to Stinky Sisters in Kingsmead. No, sorry, not that, twas in fact that Pat "Dead as a Butchers Dog" Cox was on his way to our hosts to join the rest of the good ones from Fleet to form a super group. Good Luck Coxy. Maybe see you next season.

In coming news was that the cryptic "defender we're looking to sign once he's fit" was now fit and we'd looked and we'd liked and we'd gone and done the deal with St Albans for another bloody Jack. Jack "what could we possibly call him" Saville. Very exciting. We should never have doubted you Spencer.

We couldn't make the trip to the old capital of this great nation because we had shit to do before the real stuff starts and/or we fucked off on holiday.

In a nutshell, because we had our eyes and ears there for us, we won 1-0, it was Curo's turn to score today, we weren't great but the defence looked solid with Saville round the back alongside CJ and the Hugster. Truncheon was back on the left and we had another new midfielder. This time next to Richlist was a chap called Chris Regis, apparently recently released by Colchester. Also, Liam Stone was between the sticks instead of Luke Cairney so it's looking likely will see him in the squad by the time we take the trip to St Neots on Saturday.

We'd love to tell you more, but our mole was otherwise engaged and distracted by his guest to the game so we don't have anymore for you.

You may be lucky and get a preview of our opening league game but you might not. Put a gun to our heads now though and we'd say Spencer will stick with his 5-2-3 or 3-4-1-2 or whatever it is when he has the wing backs and Mustard behind Perry Curo. There'll be either Cairney or Stone in goal, one of the Jack's alongside CJ and Josh, probably Truncheon on the left and Tiny Dancer on the right, Kieron and Reg/The Easter in the middle and the front three pick themselves.

Don't ask us for a prediction, although we'd put a fiver each on Curo and Perry to score. You're welcome

This is a fuck of a long load of bollocks so if you've got this far, cheers, but maybe you should think of having a wipe and getting off the shitter. Your legs will have bastard pins and needles and you'll fall over and knock yourself out on the sink.

It's fair to say though that we're pretty bloody excited about the new season now.

We're uncomfortable with the optimism, it's not sitting quite right but fuck it, we're running with it until the pissing wheels have fallen off.

We'll see you there.

Lots of love

The Boro Walk

(P.S yes by the end of this we'd had a few beers and we're a couple of shitty sheets to the wind but there's FOUR FUCKING GAMES TO TALK ABOUT, FUCK YOU)

As always.... COME ON YOU YELLOWS!!!