Take Me To Church, Ep 17: Destination Unknown

19 min readFeb 21, 2023

There’s a feeling in the air around Upminster Road. And it’s not just the morning waft of stale beer this time; it’s something more interpretive. The local dogs are flapping their tongues and their tails as I wave to their passing owners. The kids in the playground at the local school are pretending to be Jorge Cadete, headbutting each other while going for the ball but always with smiles on their faces, even when the ambulances arrive. Big Sooz’s glasses are freshly polished, and even the froth on my traditional morning pint seems to sparkle with a more hopeful glint.

I know what’s responsible, of course. We’re just hours away from the first leg of the FA Trophy Semi Final against my one-time greatest loves, Aldershot Town. I spent a year playing for their under 18s when I was just 16 years old, a daunting and often terrifying prospect, but the one time I got to play at the Recreation Ground, coming on as a substitute in drizzling rain under the floodlights, was one of the best experiences of my life. I was rubbish, of course — I basically chased the wet ball around the pitch like a border collie for 20 minutes — but man, nights like that. What a feeling.

This time the big lights will be on at our place, as the early evening kick-off is ours and the return leg next week is a far more ordinary 3pm affair. No matter, though. Fortress The Stadium has our backs; in the league we’ve won 17 of 20 games here and we’re unbeaten since January 8th. Despite the reputation our opponents bring with them, you’d be mad not to give us a chance.

Having said that, the Shots don’t just bring their reputation — they bring a squad of genuinely excellent players, and as I mentioned last time around, there are also some familiar names. Tarkan Mustafa and Ray “Panzer” Warburton are regulars at the back alongside Alan Watts and former Wales international Darren Barnard. The two things I would note about their defence is that they’re all well over thirty and they aren’t particularly quick. Having said that, Tarkan, Panzer and Watts are their three best players this season if you go by average ratings alone, so maybe speed isn’t everything.

Their midfield and attack is very talented. David Beckham-a-like Martin Reeves has 13 assists from the right wing, Leighton O’Brien has ten goals from midfield, and strike partnership Roscoe D’Sane and Adriano Rigoglioso have a combined 35 goals in the 40-odd appearances they’ve had together. Somehow it’s only fired the Shots to third in the Conference National, although leaders Barnet have got Giuliano Grazioli up top, so maybe that explains it.

As the players gather in the dressing room, there’s a notable absentee. Where is Gustavo Cabrera? I consult with Jorge and he explains that he picked up a knock against Maidenhead and will be wooing the physiotherapists in the doctor’s office for the next four days. It’s not awesome news considering that his reserve, Sam Tillen, was also injured in training during the week, so I whip out Elcock to fill in the hole they’ll leave. I’m going to miss that when he’s released on a free at the end of the season.

Otherwise, honestly, we’re in okay shape. I wish Jaroslav Timko would quit his bellyaching so I could feel slightly more confident in my forward line, although Vareille has deputised well and Jorge Cadete is as fresh-faced and ready for action as he ever was. I feel like the remainder of the team picks itself now; Sarge has, sadly, lost a couple of yards which means Pegger is an automatic choice in DMC. Cords plays in goal because I haven’t quite decided on whether I rate Attwell yet, and even if I did, he’s desperately short of match fitness having been in McDonald’s for the first six months of the season. Manuel, N’Timbanzeh and Pastuszka complete my back four, while my midfield three of Tolley, Taira and Nix can cause problems for anyone on their day. I feel a bit sorry for Mark Booth, who’s been brilliant for us this term but has been a bit overshadowed by his talented peers and remains on the bench. Great option to have coming on though.

Right. The referee knocks on the dressing room door to tell us it’s time. We need to get something here if we’re to have any hope when we head across to Hampshire in a week’s time. The players look fit, eager and ready. I am terrified, but my hipflask should quell the worst of my nerves. The big lights are on. The Ultras are bouncing. FA Trophy Final, here we come.

Aldershot are, and I cannot stress this enough, so good. The opening stages are like a training exercise for them, as they knock the ball around like we’re a collection of training cones. D’Sane and Rigoglioso both have chances inside the opening 90 seconds, and unfortunately, it only takes another minute and a half for the visitors to take the lead. Dave Challinor plays a ball inside for Rigoglioso from the left, he pushes the ball past Luis Manuel and absolutely lashes a shot past Cords for 1–0, and there was just no stopping that really. The ball left his foot like a rocket, it’s the fastest I’ve seen it move in the highlights all season. If anything it’s a good thing our young stopper wasn’t in the way of it; I wouldn’t want to have to write that letter to his mum.

Rigoglioso torments us for another 15 minutes, thankfully lashing his shots into the crowd rather than on our target. I see stewards rush to the stands every time one of his wayward blockbusters misses the goal; I hope everyone is okay. Roscoe D’Sane also bursts clear of N’Timbanzeh and hits a low drive that Cords does really well to push away to safety, but blimey, we are wobbling.

As the game ticks into the 20th minute, though, Vareille bursts past Warburton and smashes a left-footed shot wide of the far post, and it begins a period of not-getting-quite-so-pissed-on for your mighty Urchins. Vareille repeats the trick a few minutes later, then Cadete flicks up for Nix to crash a volley straight down the throat of shiny-headed visiting stopper William Bald. We also get a couple of corners that are ultimately cleared, but things are starting to look up as another Cadete effort is turned around the post for a further set piece. Taira trots over to take it, fizzes the ball to the penalty spot, N’Timbanzeh rises to thump a header straight down the middle of the goal…

…IT’S IN SOMEHOW! HOW HAS THAT GONE IN? IT DOESN’T MATTER!! Bald has flapped at it, and in fairness it was an absolute bullet of a header from big Harry, but regardless of how it’s happened, we’re back in this game! It’s 1–1 at The Stadium! Limbs everywhere!!

D’Sane and Challinor both put efforts wide to end the half, and well well well, we’re not out of this just yet! I bring the players into the dressing room for the break, with Vareille limping in last. He’s taken a knock and doesn’t need to come off, but in a game of this magnitude, I have to make a call. I really want Timko to be playing, but I hate his churlishness. In this situation, though, I want fitness and quality on the pitch, so with probably the entire dressing room staring daggers at me, I make the swap. Vareille is dunked into an ice bath, and Timko grumpily pulls his socks over his far-too-small shinpads. I could really do with just one little lob in this half, Jaro, if it’s not too much trouble.

It only takes two minutes for the Shots to restore their lead. They get a corner immediately, Tarkan swings it to the back post, Watts rises to power past Corderoy and just like that, we’re behind again. If we’re going to get to Wembley, we sure aren’t going to make it easy for ourselves.

We mark the 60th minute with José Taira hitting a corner straight out for a goal kick, and in that moment, I get the sinking feeling that it isn’t going to be our afternoon. I’m hovering over the idea of putting someone else on corners when we get another one, a minute later. Taira puts it down, I put my hand to my head, but what does he do? Sticks it on the penalty spot. And who’s there? Only bloody Harry N’Timbanzeh, and in a literal carbon-copy of our first goal, he rises to plant a thumping header past Bald, and it’s 2–2! We’re back in the game yet again!!

Pegger isn’t doing a good enough job of breaking up Aldershot’s midfield play so I send on Sarge to patrol in front of my back four with ten minutes to go, and it’s his pass that releases Cadete down the left a minute later. He draws four Shots defenders out to him before finding Elcock at the far post, which makes no sense since he’s our left-back and should be standing right next to Cadete, but he does lash a volley goalwards… it’s going in! Surely! NO! The shot clangs off the far post and out for a goal kick! Unbelievably close to taking the lead for the first time in this game.

Nix was rubbish in the first half but is running the show in the second, and he skips past another defender before releasing Timko to shoot across Bald, but as well as the away keeper getting a hand to it, he’s also offside. It’s good stuff, though. We’re pushing hard for the winner as we enter the last five minutes of this game.

Unfortunately, it’s the last chance of the match, and we finish all square at The Stadium — but honestly, after that ropey start and brilliant goal from Rigoglioso, we pushed Aldershot really hard, and if anyone deserved to win it, it was us. Giving them two away goals (which I assume count, but who knows) isn’t the best thing we could have done, but crucially, we haven’t lost, and we know we can play better than them. We’re still in this tie.

And while we have the excitement of the second leg to come, there’s also the small matter of finishing our league season. In between the two Aldershot games, a half-reserve side will line up to hopefully take out flat-bottom Eastbourne Boro and finally win us the league proper. As a reminder, we’re nine points clear with three games to go, and +15 goal difference over second-placed Grays. The division is all but won, but just for the sake of my shredded nerves, can we just quickly make sure lads?

We absolutely can. We dominate the opening ten minutes and really should take the lead, but two minutes later, we do — Stephen Cooke dances through the home defence and clips a shot in at the near post for 1–0 to the good guys. We can’t extend the lead before half time, but we finish the opening 45 with 17 chances created, seven on target, and as you’d expect, we are dominating the side who are on the verge of drifting into the non-leagues.

The second half is the same story, more or less. We’re absolutely dominant from pretty much start to finish, and only heroics from Lee Hook in the home nets prevents us from extending our lead. We’re through on goal time and time again but we either find Hook’s hooks, or can’t find the target at all. It feels poised for a late Eastbourne equaliser with their only shot on target of the game, but instead, we do make the game safe with ten minutes left. Tolley sends Booth clear yet again, he shoots, Hook saves, but Vareille is lurking to mop up the rebound, and that’s game over at 2–0.

An eventful last ten sees Cooke almost adds a third, Vareille forced off injured, and Timko booked for diving — but in the end, our near-total dominance pays off, Eastbourne are relegated, and your mighty Urchins are officially Conference South champions!

It was inevitable since the last episode, so I’m glad to finally have the league season wrapped up. Naturally, all attention is now focused on the drive around London and through to Northants for easily our biggest game of the season.

Our opponents don’t have any new injury concerns ahead of the return leg, but I’m curious to see that the condition of their players is not particularly good. Challinor, Barnard, Warburton and Reeves are all under 90% fitness, with Challinor — one of our arch tormentors from the last game — sitting at 74%. He’s also unhappy, along with Barnard, because they both feel like they need a rest, and on this evidence it’s hard to argue. It’s only a sliver of good news, but in tight games like these, could it be decisive?

For our part, we’re without Jerome Vareille for the rest of the season after he tore his groin, the most painful injury imaginable, against Eastbourne — real hard luck since he only came on as a sub with less than half an hour to go. As a result, and against all of my more believable morals, Jaroslav Timko will start up top with Jorge Cadete, because young Windross will be miles out of his depth and, quite honestly, my definitely-not son Lee Paul deserves to be abandoned after he scored one goal and then refused to even look at a potential new contract. For all his faults, Timko can at least cause trouble for defences and score goals. If he’s the difference maker today, he can moan all he wants.

Cabrera also returns at left back; despite being “tired”, I still prefer him out there to Elcock, who has proven indisputably that he has no idea how to play anywhere except right back. Harsh luck on Stephen Cooke who drops out of the squad altogether despite his 10/10 performance last time around, but hey, that was against a now-relegated side. This is a very different ball game.

Say it quietly, but… I feel pretty good as the players stamp their studs against the concrete floor of the away dressing room. We were good last time against Shots, we had the perfect training session against Eastbourne to put us in the goalscoring mood. We’ll need a bit of luck and a lot of graft, but I believe! I actually believe! Rise, you mighty red (or blue and white today, whatever) dogs of war! Rise to the challenge of the Aldershot Phoenix! Nibble its feet, tug on its wings! Glory awaits!

Challinor doesn’t start for Aldershot, in fact he’s not in the squad at all — instead deputy right winger Nick Crittenden takes up position on the left of midfield! Again, it’s only a tiny piece of good news in the grand scheme of things… but it is something. Attacks down our right hand side, here we come!

The game starts exactly as you’d expect — with the home side on the ball. In fact, they have it for quite some time, and their best player is, you guessed it, Nick Crittenden, theoretically a weak link but just dancing past Pastuszka every time he gets the ball. He makes a decisive contribution on the 20 minute mark, as he gets past our flailing full-back for the third or fourth time and crosses for Roscoe D’Sane, who makes no mistake with his near-post header to put the hosts 1–0 up, and honestly, it’s no less than they deserve.

From kick-off, though, we show a bit of leg. Tolley spins in midfield and finds a pass out to Cabrera, who releases Cadete to fire narrowly over the bar with his left foot from just inside the box, defenders bearing down on him from every angle. It’s not much, but it’s enough to get the Ultras singing in the away end at the Recreation Ground, and that’s something. We’re going to need every ounce of it if we’re going to make it to Wembley.

A throw in on our right is taken by Pastuszka and returned to him by Tolley. He hits a first-time cross from deep, it’s really excellent… Cadete gets in front of his man! CADETE’S HEADER!! What a save by Bald, who darts down low to his right and diverts the Portuguese’s header to safety! Blimey, my heart. That was almost a phenomenal equaliser. We’re still alive!

The ball is launched out for a throw in on our left, and this time, Cabrera takes and gets it back from Tolley before launching a cross of his own into the box. It’s over Cadete, and it’s over Timko… but who’s this arriving at the far post? Oh my GOD, IT’S HARRY N’TIMBANZEH!

NTIMBANZEEEEHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

GOAL GOAL GOAL GOAL GOAL GOAL N’TIMBANZEH!! THERE ARE LIMBS EVERYWHERE INSIDE THE STADIUM! Our centre-half has his third goal in two games against Aldershot, this time somehow drifting in at the far post from open play, and his latest thunderous header against the Shots is planted beyond the reach of Bald, and we’re right back in this game at 1–1!

I now realise I have told my centre-halves to go forward from throw-ins, and for throw-ins to be taken long — but this is far better. Short throw, returned ball, launched at the heads of my defenders, it’s perfect. It worked for Jorge against Maidenhead, and now it’s worked for me, at the best possible time. I can hardly believe my eyes, but Aldershot are straight back on the attack, and a deflected O’Brien effort is saved in gravity-defying style by Corderoy to keep the scores level, and then straight back on the break, Nix dances past the whole Aldershot defence and puts a low cross on a plate for Taira, but he clears the crossbar when it looks easier to score. My head is in my hands; I’d have put my house on him to score there. As it is, though, we head into the break level with Aldershot once more.

I’m very curious to see that Martin Reeves is on a 3 for Aldershot despite playing fine from what I’ve seen — the curse of playing someone very slightly out of position strikes someone else for a change, that’s lovely. Speaking of changes, I make none; our hosts have been more dangerous in attack than us, but strictly speaking, we’re looking just fine. I still absolutely fancy us to nick this, as long as we can stay tight at the back. I instruct Pegger to make sure that happens, as is his wont, and back out we go for the second half.

Pastuska and Nix combine on the right, the latter doing his trademark two-step past a couple of home defenders before sending the former down the line. He crosses first time to the far post, where Jorge Cadete is completely unmarked!! CADETE’S HEADER!!

It hits the post! It’s back to Cadete!! Bald comes out… and smothers at his feet. What a chance. What a chance squandered by the most reliable finisher we have. It’s only the 46th minute, so there’s plenty of time to go, but man… that feels like it might have been the chance.

We’re on fire now. We create three more chances in the next four minutes — Cadete tests Bald with a stinger off his left foot, Nix balloons one over the bar after another fine run, and Tolley also tries his luck from 25 yards but it’s miles wide in the end. Rigoglioso then breaks through our lines and smashes one into the stands to make sure we remember who we’re playing, and then… disaster strikes. In just 60 seconds both Kyle Nix and Jorge Cadete are taken out by Aldershot defenders; Nix can continue, just about, but Cadete is fully crocked and needs to come off. It’s a huge blow. Windross takes his place, but now, with a full half hour to go, our main goal threat is in the dressing room having missed a clear-cut opportunity just five minutes earlier. It’s going to be a huge 35 minutes for young Windy.

Two minutes go by, and it’s another body blow. Kyle Nix is taken out for a second time, and his game is also over. The ever-reliable Booth takes his place, but for god’s sake, how are all of Aldershot’s players still on the pitch? We’ve seen just a single yellow card for these two game-ending challenges. Get control of it, ref!

69 minutes on the board — nice. Taira wins a challenge in midfield and gives the ball to Windross’s feet. He turns, Watts flies in to challenge… but Windross skips past him! Windross is through on goal, clean through, bearing down on Bald! He scuffs the shot wide. It’s an awful effort. This is exactly it, isn’t it? Cadete would definitely have at least made the keeper do something there. I officially hate this now.

Taira then puts Timko clean through on goal but Bald makes a stunning save to tip his effort over the bar. I’m on the touchline catatonic at the fact that we aren’t in the lead; I literally can’t move for frustration. The corner is caught and walloped upfield, but Pegger is imperious in the air and heads down to Booth. He sends Jaroslav Timko through, first time — clear of the defenders again… he goes for his lob! It’s deflected, but it’s over the keeper! IT’S OVER THE KEEPER!

IT’S IN!! IT’S IN!!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL URCHINS! JAROSLAV TIMKO HAS DONE IT AGAIN! His textbook chip is clawed at by Bald, but he can’t stop it! The replay shows he was definitely offside when the ball was played, but it’s not bloody given! It’s 2–1! 2–1 to the Urchins!!

We are playing like a team possessed now. To be fair, we were before the injuries happened, but my replacement players and their colleagues are just as incensed as I am at the treatment they got from the hosts, and they’re making sure they don’t get away with it. Windross is sent through by Booth and wins a corner, from which he bullets a header at Bald that’s palmed away to safety from point-blank range. And then, Barnard sticks a free-kick into the box in the 87th minute and substitute Tim Sills wins the header to make it 2–2, and I am absolutely f — king livid. Talk about don’t deserve it — it’s the only thing they’ve put on target this whole bloody half. We have battered them left and right, they’ve taken out my two best players and we’ve still been all over them, but of course, the sucker punch. Of course. And that’s full time, of course it is. Extra time then I suppose. I hate everything.

I still have one sub to make, whereas Shots have made all theirs and they’re actually looking far leggier than us. Timko is on green-injured now as Aldershot execute their gameplan of committing actual bodily harm against my entire forward line. I’m on the phone to the police as I make a note to ensure I bring on Sarge before extra time is over, if it looks like it’s going to pens. He’s one of our better spot kickers, after all.

Timko is caught offside just as he tucks the ball into the Aldershot net in the 95th minute. I don’t celebrate — I knew. Cords then saves easily from a Mustafa effort from distance, and that’s half time in extra time. I tell Sarge to warm up his right leg specifically.

We start the second half of extra time, and I decide almost straight away to put Sarge on for Timko. Not only is our miserable striker injured, but he also only has 1 for Pens — while Sarge, although a DMC, actually has 14 for Finishing. At this point I’d almost prefer for someone to put him through on goal than the Slovak.

Second half of extra time. Crittenden smashes one wide. Windross smashes one wide. Pepper actually does get put through on goal… and smashes one wide. It really feels like everyone is far too tired to do anything except take pens. Barnard hoofs a corner into the box, Cords punches it away, Warburton returns it towards goal. It hits Tolley. It hits Cabrera. It’s past Corderoy. It’s in. It’s gone in. I can’t f — king believe it. It’s 3–2 to Aldershot. They’ve done absolutely nothing. Somebody else call the police this instant.

There’s even time for me to actually start strangling Mick in frustration as Taira gets put clean through on goal, probably the 11th or 12th time we’ve been 1v1 against Bald today, but the home stopper makes the most ridiculous save to push the ball out for a corner. It’s a world-class, impossible stop at this stage of the game — somehow we’re into the 132nd minute, this is like a fever dream, I’m not even sure what’s real any more. Taira puts the corner to the far post, Windross is completely unmarked, so of course he heads back across goal and wide, out for a goal kick. Bald lumps it forward, the full time whistle goes, and someone should get a medic out here for Mick. He’s going purple. I’m not shaking anyone’s hand — I’m out of here. This was altogether too much.

I don’t think there’s been a more unreasonable way to lose a game in football history. We’ve played better over both legs, made more chances, had more shots on target, and been superior overall by every metric except one. They took my three best attacking players out of the game with heinous fouls that went almost entirely unpunished, we still created more chances than them… I’m furious. Absolutely furious.

I’m not sure I’m going to recover from this. I’m just glad we’ve already won the league, because there’s no way I’m playing our remaining games. I can’t face being in that dugout again this season. I’m not even getting Limey back to Hornchurch tonight. I’m getting the train into London and disappearing into Soho until the season is over. Jorge — you’re in charge. I’ll see you in May~