Well that was was a nice quiet summer, wasn’t it?
A financial crisis, two new managers, public boardroom bust-ups, wholesale squad changes, three board resignations and, of course, yet another attempt to flog half the club – all in the space of three months.
Rumour has it that our financial problems were going to be solved with a Netflix documentary about the club, but they turned us down because we were “too plot heavy”.
Still, democracy has spoken and a vote in which owners were presented with the choice of:
(a) Selling out to an anonymous private equity fund who will write blank cheques to get the women into the Champions League, get the men promoted by Christmas, turn The Dripping Pan into Disneyland Sussex and end the war in Ukraine; or
(b) Reducing both first team budgets to £2.50 per week, sending the Foundation teams to work down the mines, the Dripping Pan turned into a Lidl, and all owners forced to memorise the script of Mrs Brown’s Boys
Saw the majority of those who could even be arsed to even fill out the survey plump for option (a). It’s the kind of democracy that brings a tearful glint of admiration to Putin’s eye.
None of which, by the way, should detract from the amazing fundraising work that The Supporters Club volunteers have put in over the summer to keep the circus on the road. Treasurer Al’s abacus has been completely knackered counting the thousands raised from quizzes, curry nights and sponsored walks, added to the ten grand we’ve already agreed to hand over to the club. My sincere thanks to everyone who’s volunteered, contributed or participated in those events, in particular Sharon Stanley, who has worn through a pair of Nikes collecting generous donations from local businesses.
The good thing about strapping yourself to a football club is there’s always the football to take your mind off the other nonsense. Alas, yesterday didn’t get off to a cracking start for Brad Pritchard’s first game in charge.
First, we have to acknowledge the calibre of the opposition we were facing. Hashtag are, of course, one of England’s oldest and most established football clubs. Founded in 1878 as Old Hashtagonians, before merging with neighbouring Hashtag Victoria just before the Second World War, they have the kind of pedigree that you just can’t buy from the revenue generated from YouTube ads for erectile dysfunction remedies.
Sadly, they could buy Bradley Sach, an old-fashioned lump of a centre-forward who gave our new back three a torrid time. For the first goal, we gave their no.8 enough time to write a Lewes FC investment proposal email, before he tucked the ball into Sach, who muscled off new skipper Gayle and planted the ball past Louis Rogers.
For their second, they got in down our right, before cutting the ball back (via a wicked deflection) for a Sach to semi-acrobatically bundle it home at the back post.
The Rooks, sadly, rarely had a sniff of goal at the other end. Devonte West had a shot well saved in the first half, Kaan Bennett had one nicked off his toes in the second. The closest we came was in the dying moments, when right wing-back Bernal’s cross flashed right across an open goal, but substitute Walter Figueira couldn’t get his bonce to it.
Still, nevermind. It’s only the first game, and there’s still Charlie Walker waiting for his paperwork to clear on the sidelines. And if he can’t find the net, we’ll sign Harry Kane once the takeover is complete.
Lewes: Rogers, Bowry (Clark), Gayle, Burchell, Bernal, Asiedu, Chadwick, Iandolo (Erskine), West (Figueira), Bennett, Starkey (Christmas)
Unused sub: Deda
Supporters Club man of the match: Won’t defer from Brian The Badge’s official choice of Finlay Chadwick, who kept everything neat and tidy in the middle of the park.
Video highlights from Your Instant Replay:
Boyesy’s brilliant photos:
