The 'google maps' factor had us cutting it finer then a last minute equalizer at the world professional tooth combing championships. Pressure? What fucking pressure. I think you all underestimate just how Andy Smart the M3 is now. We sent her a tweet and she lubed up and got ready to project us into her fast moistening outer slipstream. Let's be honest, we were just euphoric we weren't going anywhere near the M25. ALLELUJAH!
Oh, did we mention the weather yet? Jesus H Christ it was more relentless then Boris Johnson getting on the buffet at a bullshit convention. It was the most unsettled rain since Spencer took over.
The last 2 times we visited the Privett Hedge, a certain Sam "Fogle" Pearce captained "the (other) Boro" to narrow victories. Since then, however, Gosport have also been on the slide. Following their 2014 FA trophy final appearance, they've been dogged by financial problems and player turmoil (not sure what those things are). A look at the league table suggested they were still on the downward spiral. More defeats then Nigel Farage at elections. With our blistering(ish) goal frenzy at the Langley still fresh in the mind and our injury list reducing like a rich game jus, we all knew this could be a procession.
So by the time we pulled into the car park, and told the doggers to fuck off, we just about had time to bladder unload, into their unsettlingly small urinals, and get wood in the main stand. The painted partition lines truly were a thing of non-league fundamentalist beauty. In the blizzard rain, that stand kind of felt like the cast of scooby doo were about to run through and unmask the mayor as the villain who'd probably have gotten away with it if it wasn't for those meddling kids. That illusion was soon broken by their fantastically mobile DJ tannoy announcer. Ding Dang Do.
Team news? With Connor "Mustard" Calcutt (continuing his climb to full fitness), "the Hoffen" Coles (back from taking his mrs up the aisle) and Curo (chomping at the bit following his cameo on Saturday), the big news was that it was back to the holy trinity up top. The C-unit was being deployed. "Reg" and James "the Organ" Hammond continued their fledgling, yet impressive, partnership at the back. "Clintons" on the bench. With JR back from Turkey, Christmas had come early and we just needed the stuffing to commence.
Boro were into the wind in the 1st half, and we don't mean in the Ciardini post-curry fashion which you're all thinking. From the off, Boro had an energy to them. Some shape and structure in the middle and the passing was crisp and concise. That said, it was the hosts who had the first 'pop'. An effort from the edge of the box which "chilli con" Cairney did well to claw away. Fair play to the lad as these were shocking conditions for the defensive unit. From there though Boro clicked up a gear and, following a deft turn, "footy focus" Walker would out pace his marker and unleash a furious spunk unloader, beating the ball bag protector from a good 20 yards out. 1-0
With the sheer euphoria of that goal still fresh, we'd barely finished plucking the next round of splinters from our bum holes before we were on our feet again. There'd already been a couple of right sided soirees more tasty then a 'Boro hollywood movie trailer by the time "Good" Evans set us off on a move which completely ripped the Gosport defence apart like "Reg" in a laser quest. The move resulted in Curo dropping a shoulder and dinking it over the stick man. Absolutely top notch bombing. (p.s. It wasn't Perry ffs)
I cannot stress how good we looked in that first 25 mins, albeit that was matched with how poor our hosts were. To be fair to them they really bucked up their ideas and got their house in order. They pulled one back just before the half hour, "Good" Evans getting caught out on the slip'n'slide, and they got another one 10 from the end, courtesy of us revisiting our shambolic marking at corners.
"The hoffen" had an uncharacteristic night whereby he'd probably have played all night and still not scored. "Footy focus" Walker started trying to take it around everyone, like that kid in the school playground whose parents drove a Mercedes and probably didn't love him enough, which really started to fucking grate. One highlight though, Chris "Johnny" Regis delivered his best performance in the Boro getup. That said, I'm only talking about the comedic fashion in which he wore his hood in the half time warm up, like he was hiding a gopher in there. He eventually came on but did his completely indifferent bambi display routine as per usual. FT 4-2
So there you have it. Raced out the blocks, scored a hatful, took our foot off the gas, lost our structure, stopped doing the basics, saw it out. A win, in those conditions, is a win though.
Turns out Curo has now notched goals in the top 8 leagues in England. Some debate ensued on Twitter and it appears the only other genuine claimant of this achievement is none other then Salisbury supremo Steve Claridge. This is made all the more ironic as he was sitting behind us as Curo bagged his brace. Small world. Quite what was going through Claridge's mind during the first 30 mins is anyone's guess. Something along the lines of "shit the bed, thank fuck for that" we're guessing.
So as we set off, dodging hurricane Hampshire, conversation in the car turned to squad evolution. We didn't really understand why "the Organ" was brought in as a right back, but switched to CB when we had Jay "Hucknall" Smith available, so guessed he'd be out the door sooner rather then later. Liam "Jagger" Stone has looked pony and been suspended, ill, on holiday and managing Swansea, so time to give Luke the 'chief ballbag protector' orb and move on. Also, enough is enough with Regis.
Back in the 'Boro, that brew never tasted better.... maybe @theBoroWalk brollys should be next.
It's the Pants-shire cup next. Fleet away... that's exciting isn't it.