Fancy Dresslemania XII
*** Outward Journey & Pre-Match Pints
The 12th consecutive installment of a now-storied and proud KSG tradition. I, for one, was very happy with Dover as the fixture; a club with a sizeable fan-base, a decent ground that we've visited before but not often, a reasonably lengthy but not too complicated nor expensive train journey and the opportunity to go via London in costume for the first time since Fancy Dresslemania VI at Histon in 2006.
The weather leading up to the big day had not been good and the forecast was for more heavy showers. Bearing this - and the fact that we were on the rather early 09:32 train from Maidenhead - in mind, we decided to forego the 'Walk of Shame' from Chez Macleod. Instead there were two 'pick-up and drop-off' car journeys involving a 3-door Ford Fiesta, both operated with military-like precision befitting experienced Fancy Dressers. Dick Dastardly, Kermit the Frog, Zippy from Rainbow and John McEnroe were, in fact, so organised and prompt that we were able to catch an earlier train than originally planned.
The first photo of the day was up on Facebook by 09:30 (I still haven't worked out how to upload on Tw@tter) and the 'Likes' were flooding-in within seconds (literally). The additional time we had made for ourselves allowed extra photo opportunities - for tourists and Londoners alike - at Paddington and Edgware Road, en route to St Pancras. One Scandinavian family, sitting opposite us on the tube, requested and took a photo before pointing out (in perfect English, of course) that the young daughter was carrying a Bjorn Borg bag. John McEnroe was not amused, cue the first "You cannot be serious!" cry of the day. Others, meanwhile, would ask the inevitable question as to why we were dressed in costume ...
"We're running the London Marathon" was our initial response
"But that's not until tomorrow"
"WHAT?! You're joking, right?"
^^^ We're off!
^^^ Thumbs up! (Do frogs have thumbs?)
^^^ Keep your head down, luv, and there's a chance he might not talk to you
St Pancras was, as expected, packed ... and, also as expected, the crowds were loving the Fancy Dress. We made a bee-line for the champagne bar, if only to enjoy the nervous looks on the faces of customers and staff alike. Before we'd had much of a chance to browse the menu and feign interest in finding a table, however, a group of loud Liverpudlian females appeared on the horizon, waving and shouting at us. 'Hen Party' was the immediate thought, but it transpired the group were celebrating a 60th birthday. They demanded photos. We obliged (and inserted the obvious tag-lines to immediate Facebook uploads). They had clearly been on the lash since the early hours and the smell of alcohol-on-breath made me crave the first can of G. Luckily we didn't have long to wait for our super-fast train to Kent; Kermit was soon declaring the bar open (and making a mess). The train journey passed serenely - despite a moment of crisis when it became apparent we only had two cans left (13 down) with 25 minutes still to go - and we arrived in Dover before 12:30, as scheduled.
^^^ < Insert 'Mutley' joke here >
^^^ Don't worry, these three will NOT be competing in the Olympics
^^^ Ebbsfleet: BOO!!!
^^^ Waste not, want not
We've been very, very lucky with the weather on Fancy Dress Away Days in recent years and, despite the aforementioned predicted rainfall, the skies were remarkably clear. We decided to 'make hay while the sun shines' and head straight up the High Street/London Road to the Old Endeavour, a 20-odd minute walk. I note that a nearby area of Dover is called Tower Hamlets. Without wishing to sound too unkind to the general vicinity and it's inhabitants, the notorious 'other' Tower Hamlets - in London - cannot be much worse! Despite the unappealing surroundings - and a desire to get to the pub before the weather turned - we still found the time to stop for photos ...
^^^ Bit of sight-seeing; yer actual culture, innit.
^^^ Already preparing for next year
^^^ Who are ya?!
^^^ Stop the pigeon!
One of the barmaids came round and mentioned to us a chili con carne-eating contest, 50p entry with proceeds going to charity. We immediately handed over £20 from the kitty and nominated Zippy for the challenge (much to his disgust!). Without going into too much detail, Zippy is the last person who should be eating spicy food ... in his condition ;-) Anyway, he managed just the one mouthful, thereby disgracing himself, the KSG, his family and the people of Maidenhead (no change there then!). He could, however, console himself with the knowledge that he clearly had the most popular costume. In contrast, Mr McEnroe had to explain to some of the more intellectually-challenged home fans why he wasn't wearing his 118 number. He would also have to laugh off suggestions that he WASN'T wearing a wig!
Some of the stragglers on the later train - the Grim Reaper, Hannibal Lecter (great costume) and Logic the ass-riding Mexican - joined us just as the entire pub was finding it's voice; Dover teasing us about impending relegation, the KSG responding with self-deprecating ditties such as "We're going down, we're going down, you're not, you're not", "The Conference South is upside down ... " and others. As kick-off approached, the last strains of "Dunston is a Magpie" (don't ask) died down and the pub emptied. The congenial gentlemen photographed below, with Mr McEnroe, walked with us to the ground. His story was familiar; a club chock-full of mercenary players, with talented youngsters who can identify with the fans (and vice-versa) never given much of a chance. Attendances, entertainment and enjoyment dwindling.
Anyway, the sun was still shining ... would a (thus far) good day out be ruined by 90 minutes of football?
^^^ He managed one mouthful. One. (TBF, it was hot.)
^^^ Trevor McDonald's wayward offspring?!
^^^ John McEnroe looks OK - albeit somewhat inebriated - but Ivan Lendl has really let himself go
*** The Match (highlights here)
This was a game that both sides needed to win (for differing reasons). The fact that neither did so says much about them, IMO. Johnson Hippolyte (https://twitter.com/#!/TheRealDrax) left the contracted Ashan Holgate and Manny Williams on the bench, and was true to 'his' word:
Despite the diminutive Barney unsurprisingly getting little or no change from the Dover centre-halves, I actually thought MUFC Ltd looked relatively neat and tidy. They did, however, once again lack penetration in the final third. And they also opened up at the back to allow the home side to take two simple chances and a seemingly insurmountable lead. No wonder we are where we are, in the league table. The away fans, including an impressive and pleasantly-surprising amount in costume, responded as they saw fit; chants of "We're Maidenhead United, we're not very good", "We're going down, we're going down, you're not, you're not" and "Are you Taylor in disguise" getting ever louder (TBF, thanks to the great acoustics of the River End - and the copious amount of pre-match alcohol - we'd been pretty loud prior to the goals). It looked like being a long and uncomfortable afternoon, particularly for the seemingly hapless Hippolyte ... and then, just before half-time and out-of-nothing, 17-year-old Devante McKain scored a wonderful half-volley from the edge of the box. Perhaps it wasn't all over ...
^^^ First half
^^^ Second half
At this juncture I'd like to praise the Dover stewards ... seriously! One of the first things the home fans said to us upon arrival in the Old Endeavour was that Mr McEnroe wouldn't be allowed to take his tennis racket into the ground (they were wrong, it would transpire). The Crabble's fluorescent-jacketed jobsworths are obviously not popular with the home fans but they were fine with us last Saturday, certainly in comparison to others we've encountered in the past (Ebbsfleet, obviously, but also Basingrad, Humpton, Bath etc etc). One came in for some stick - from both sides - for halting our conga, clockwise (from the Dover Port End) around the ground, but he was smiling when an even longer one passed him going the other way. The Dover fans seemed to love the conga'ing and us in general. Some illustrative comments:
Maidenhead fans' conga - Highlight of the afternoon for me. ~ Striker
Maidenhead fans' conga - It did make me laugh. ~ James79
the highlight of the day was the conga, by zippy a frog and batman and robin amongst others. ~ Mike Oxlong
Would like to mention the fancy dress fans of Maidenhead, good luck to them in their battle to survive and thank you for making us smile today, my favourite image the full size Mr Zippy jumping about when they scored very funny!! ~ bevsie
The highlight of the day was definately the Maidenhead fans who demonstrated what football at this level is all about. ~ Nord Pas De Calais
^^^ It's conga time!
^^^ Has Zippy found the Crabble glory-hole?!
Good publicity for the club? Don't bank on it! Incidentally, I may be mistaken, but Cloughie didn't appear to be at the game. I suppose if you're the MUSA Secretary yet can't be bothered to turn up for the MUSA Race Night taking place after a home game in the pub opposite York Road, then a two-hour each-way car journey to Kent isn't going to appeal ... certainly not when it's last away game of the season and 'that lot' are gonna be singing and having fun! For the record, there was little or no swearing last Saturday (plenty of 'ginging ginge' though!). TBH, I'd have more respect for Cloughie if he had turned up at Dover ... sporting a green jumper and red face! Alas ...
It says a lot about the Conference South, IMO, that an alien visitor to the Crabble would have found it hard to identify the side chasing the play-offs, as opposed to the one staring relegation in the face. In this week's Advertiser, Drax stated in one article that "It was another very good performance from us" and "Dover had the support behind them". Bollocks! (as in, That Man Talks ... ) Maidenhead played OK and, as aforementioned, probably should've won. But the manager shouldn't let the 'Dover are a club with a big budget' and 'Poor little Maidenead' mindset cloud his judgment. In the article on the opposite page he gave a more accurate account, coming as close as he is probably ever likely to, of admitting he's not worthy of an even longer contract extension and an upgrade on the Toureg:
To re-cap, we needed to win and Dover weren't great (to put it mildly). We played OK but only drew. Fail. Despite this, the away support was relatively decent in number, loud throughout and good-humoured. Thankfully, Bobby Behzadi lead the entire team over to applaud the fans. He really is 'The Daddy'. In stark contrast, the manager didn't even bother to acknowledge us. Not even a two-fingered gesture, nor a Darti Brown-esque (who was Drax's captain at Yeading, can anyone remember?) "hold me back/see you in the bar afterwards" rant.
Say what you like about Carl Taylor (who, let's not forget, wasn't immediately sacked by Peter 'Chairman who knows his football' Griffin, following our most recent humiliating relegation), but at least he spoke (sometimes argued!) with the fans. At least he didn't shy away and instead attempted to justify his (usually ill-judged) decisions. Hippolyte appears aloof and cocksure. Always has done, thinking about it. The key now is that he appears aloof, cocksure AND increasingly clueless. The hilarious, aforementioned spoof Tw@tter account shows how far his stock has fallen ... and not just among those oft-derided as being 'anti-Drax'.
However, just like David O'Leary at Leeds United, for example, the manager can/should take only a portion of the blame (as if Drax would take any!). The manager doesn't write the cheques. The manager doesn't award himself multi-year contract extensions (on the back of one Cup victory and lengthy win-less runs in the league). The Chairman does. Peter Ridsdale, in Leeds' case. Peter Griffin, in Maidenhead's. They're largely at fault, IMO, especially if they've done little else to cement a worthwhile legacy. "What a waste of money" the travelling support - almost to a man - bellowed at Griffin, sat alongside Rasher in the Directors area. The former didn't seem to like it.
*** Post-Match Pints & Return Journey
The Dover fans lead us on a post-match stroll (still in the sunshine!) to the rather decent Three Cups. Here Kermit and I sat outside and chatted with PCSU. He describes this discussion, on his blog, as "one long whingefest about who's club is more sh!t" ... which is pretty much spot on! :-)
Safe in the knowledge that T*ttenham Hotspud's implosion was continuing, at QPR, it was back to the Old Endeavour. While Dick was suitably Dastardly ...
^^^ "Don't tell George!"
... and the KSG were introduced to the fledgling flag-bearers of the LCG, Kermit began to struggle. He complained about not having eaten all day, but he wasn't the only one who had gone without food. I blame old age ... or the fact that Miss Piggy had given him the boot! Not even a kiss from an attractive MILF in tight jeans could rouse him from his impending slumber (nor turn him into a prince). He would suggest getting our scheduled train home. Majority rule meant we delayed by an hour and instead followed the Dover fans - as rain finally began to fall - to the apparently recently re-opened Eagle Inn (which, not-coincidentally, was en route to the station). Sadly, while 'Beautiful Boy' and the rest were busy planning a visit to local nightclub Funky Monkey's (great name), we only had time for one in here before a mad dash (via a petrol station for lard and booze) to catch the last train.
Profound thanks to BB, PCSU and the others. Top, top lads. See you again next season, perhaps. Somewhere! As a gesture of appreciation for your hospitable welcome, here's a photo of Dover legend Dave Clarke in a silly wig:
^^^ " Gobbed all over. You've been, gobbed all over ... "
As the return train sped through the Kent countryside, Zippy and Kermit caught up with their beauty(!) sleep, while Dick and John chatted with the LCG. Soon we were back in London. We then got on the wrong tube train (I blame Zippy) and so had to undertake a 15 minute walk from Royal Oak to Paddington. More waving! En route we, rather bizarrely and completely at random, picked up (not like that!) the sister of ex-Magpie defender Simon Daley, who was also on her way back to Maidenhead. I think she enjoyed our company ... at least until someone(!) deliberately started getting her name wrong! At Paddington we would then bump into a doppelganger of ex-Hollyoaks actor Paul Danan, who did a superb Zippy impression (significantly better than this one, anyway!). Inspired by this, the costumed Zippy took it upon himself to stand up and read out - in his (i.e. Zippy's) voice, to the absolutely jam-packed train carriage heading towards Maidenhead - the classified football results. A pant-wettingly funny moment! I don't think there was one person who wasn't laughing ... aside from Kermit, who was asleep again!
^^^ Hands up for Smokey's!
^^^ The ball was on the (train) line!"
^^^ Macleod (M) asleep on a train = 0 points
Macleod (M), dressed as Kermit, asleep on a train =
100 points 2 points
Macleod (M), dressed as Kermit, asleep on a train =
Upon arrival back in Maidenhead Kermit headed straight for a taxi-ride home and the remnants of the KSG inadvertently lost the LCG. Our delayed departure from Dover meant that the Anchor would now be closed, so Dick, John and Zippy headed for Noctor's. Landlord Joe and Malcolm, from t'chor, were in there and we would later accompany them to the Rose. Then, for the first time since Fancy Dresslemania IX, we hit the Smoke in costume. Handing over my racket at the top of the stairs with a "look after that, it's the one I used to win Wimbledon in '81" line had even the normally sour-faced bouncers in stitches. The Smoke was packed and, as usual, the costumes went down a storm.
Towards the end of the night we lost Dick (rather suspiciously, some might say!). Mr McEnroe, meanwhile, ended up trying to talk an ex-colleague out of having breast reduction surgery, while Zippy pestered her rather gorgeous - but very drunk and completely bonkers - younger sister. After putting them in a taxi (aren't we chivalrous ... ) we stumbled home in spitting rain, making it through my front door almost bang-on 5am. Despite him having a free house (his wife had taken their four-and-a-bit-month-old first-born to stay at the in-laws as he was - and I quote - "going out with the drunken retrobates"), Zippy stayed at mine. Mrs McEnroe would get a nasty surprise in the morning (must've been that mouthful of chili ... ) As did I, when switching on the TV; Kermit was running the London Marathron! No wonder he'd wanted an early(ish) night!
^^^ Go Kermie!
Final word to a Dover supporter, posting on their forum ... the KSG (and more and more at York Road, it would seem) share your pain!
Re this thread and the Conga thread elsewhere - just about sums up what an awful, soulless place Crabble is at the moment. We have mercenaries playing for the cash and not the shirt. Most of them had probably merely passed through Dover on their hols previously. We have a harmless bit of fun stopped in its tracks for no reason at all. As others have said the highlight of yesterday afternoon if not the whole season. Poor product means increasing lack of return business. And the Crabble experience is as bad as it's been for some time. No excitement, no passion, no player ownership, no empathy between the board and the supporters, no not very much at all. ~ dachshund