Away Day Diary: Ebbsfleet United 0-2 Maidenhead United (26/04/25)

 Fancy Dresslemania XXIII

Ever since the opening day of 2010/11, when the Macleods and I were ejected from their home end (there was no 'home end') on trumped-up charges of foul and abusive language (I didn't swear or abuse anyone) and threatening behaviour (i.e. standing up), leading to unjust bans from York Road, I've had a strong dislike of the football-club-formerly-known-as-Gravesend-and-Northfleet, so I was especially pleased when we pipped them to the Conference South title in 2016/17 and then stayed up at their expense – by a guffaw-inducing margin of 0.094 points per game – when the pandemic curtailed the 2019/20 season; I hadn't been back (missing Sean Marks' hat-trick of headers, as referenced on 'Two for Joy'), despite insisting to Craig that it wasn't an official boycott, and always suspected it would take Fancy Dresslemania (the 23rd instalment, as it happens) to entice me to return ... although I could have done without the nightmarish prospect of them relegating us, which would naturally delight their numpty wrong-ender fans (and, TBH, finally put our sorry season out of its misery)

Before anyone had heard of COVID-19, there was a pub near Swanscombe station that Macleod (M) and Craig had enjoyed, but it seemingly closed in 2019, so our plan was for the travelling horde to congregate at Barrel Vault – the Wetherspoons at St Pancras station – and that's what many of us did, with the following list of characters on the 10:26 GWR train from Maidenhead: Napoleon Dynamite, Pingu, the Fourth Doctor, the Grim Reaper, Freddie Mercury, a reverend, a Pink Lady, Michael van Gerwen, Nessa Jenkins, Heisenberg, and Steve H. dressed as an Aston Villa fan (on his way to their FA Cup semi-final at Wembley)

Better than expected, the pub (in keeping with the day in general): Titanic's Plum Porter went down a treat (as always), and we were able to sit outside with other groups in fancy dress (hen parties, etc.) and an increasing number of MUFC fans (including several orange dinosaurs, and Phil W. dressed – somewhat disturbingly – as a baby)

Some boos from the away terrace greeted the referee's whistle for half-time, as (1) relegation rival Dagenham & Redbridge was coasting to victory against Altrincham, and (2) Ebbsfleet had been the better least worst side in our game (TLF passing the ball to an advertising hoarding, under no pressure, summed things up); Pingu had earlier argued with Josh Banana about Reece Smith's Player of the Year credentials (Smith should be the clear winner, IMO) and, while I was drinking with Ryan Dino-Rider in the bar, everyone's favourite penguin also verbally clashed with another fan whom he thought had called for the introduction of Tobi Sho-Silva (the Grim Reaper had to intervene: "He said 'Tris' not 'TSS'")

Fortunately, the on-field performance and the off-field mood improved soon after the restart, with Brendan Kiernan playing in Shawn McCoulsky to open the scoring with his 13th league goal of the season (I missed it, supping cider) and, after Sam Howes had expertly tipped a shot onto the crossbar, McCoulsky then teed up Kiernan's fifth goal in six starts; it was now party time for the 162 away fans, with the Youth instigating a fancy dress conga for – I think – the first time since promotion to the National League (as substitutes Joshua Johnson and Tristan Abrahams both went close to increasing our lead)

Lokko, Kevin – still recuperating from February's fractured ankle – said his goodbyes as we passed him in the football ground car park on our way to catch the soonest train possible back to St Pancras; more beers in the same seats as before, outside the Barrel Vault, as news filtered through that our other relegation rival was losing/ had lost at Southend in the late kick-off

Eight years in the National, each season is our last goes the song, but this really will be our last if not for an improbable set of results on the Early May Bank Holiday; kudos to the players and management team for not giving up, but the fact it'll probably be a case of 'close but no cigar' only adds to my sense of frustration – yes, we've been punching admirably above our weight as a part-time club in the National League, and yes, there are some legitimate excuses (injuries, Boston's stupendous form under Graham Coughlan, questionable refereeing decisions that haven't evened themselves out over the season, etc.), but, despite the substandard recruitment last summer and in January, I think there are at least four teams that we coulda/ woulda/ shoulda finished above

Eubank vs Benn on TV in Stripes for the 'Middle Youth' (a phrase nicked from Wealdstone) before they joined us in the Portland Arms; Napoleon danced to Canned Heat by Jamiroquai, and a Robbie Williams super fan – Ryan Dino-Rider – led the pub in a rousing version of Angels ("I'm loving Maid'n'ead instead")

The Farm's All Together Now also got the karaoke treatment, as usual, in tribute to the much-missed Scouse Mick (who was a fine fancy dresser), but it is a line from another song performed by Pingu – James' Sit Down – that resonates most strongly as National League relegation looms large for the Magpies: If I hadn't seen such riches, I could live with being poor

(BBC report; match highlights; more Fancy Dresslemania links)

64' | A much more relaxed atmosphere in the away end at Stonebridge Road where someone dressed as Michael van Gerwen is leading a conga around the open terrace.

🔴 0-2 🖤🤍

— Maidenhead United (@MUFCYorkRoad) April 26, 2025

Away Day Diary: Wealdstone 1-1 Maidenhead United (21/04/25)

Welp! Only a point vs Woking on Good Friday, after the Magpies had thrown away a two-goal lead at (opposite-of-fortress) York Road, as I sat watching Soccer (not) Saturday in a sun-drenched but chilly Mersea Island, meant the situation was relatively simple: three wins from three or back to the regionalised wastelands, starting with a game against our old friends at Wealdstone (in a similar-but-not-quite-as-perilous position as us) #fanfreundschaft

Enfield Town's art deco stadium, a youthful group of Basingstoke Town fans in fancy dress getting told off by a policeman on the train to M@rl*w at Maidenhead station, a chance meeting with Taribo West, and a "fantasy-inspired" cocktail bar in Brighton were topics of conversation on the outward journey to Ruislip via the Metropolitan line from Baker Street; Grim and Jon were in situ as we arrived shortly after midday at the excellent Hop & Vine (Macleod [M] and I had visited previously, but only for a quick drink before a midweek FA Cup replay in 2019), and we were subsequently joined by Fuzz, Don and Lee, Beanie, Hillsy, more than one Mike, the Sparkes family, and a whole host of other home *and* away fans

American Tourists Go For Breakfast (a sketch from Harry & Paul), King Rocker (The Nightingales documentary featuring Ted Chippington), StonesAid III, and, of course, the struggles of our respective teams were discussion points as we supped ales from England (Kent Brewery), Wales (Gower Brewery), and Scotland (Vault City's Lil'Tropic – tasting, as it did, like an alcoholic Lilt – was especially popular with the away contingent); there was, as Grim and I remarked, a funereal feel to proceedings – I got the sense that the home supporters were more nervous than we were, although it was MUFC facing the prospect of relegation on the day – but, regardless, it was good to catch up with the Stones lot and the pre-match beers were a highlight

Less than five minutes gone, and the Magpies were ahead thanks to Brendan Kiernan's fourth goal on his fifth start; the travelling horde was in decent voice as those wearing black and white stripes had the upper hand in the first half, but Reece Smith spurned a simple chance, Shawn McCoulsky fired wide, and to compound matters, failure to defend balls into our box (again) allowed Wealdstone to level before the break with a scrappy equaliser seemingly out of nowhere

Dev made a series of attacking subs as both sides laboured after half-time, but, in truth, we looked increasingly despairing and disjointed; at one stage, Alan Massey – on for Will De Havilland (another Magpies injury in a season blighted by them; I counted nine non-participating MUFC players on the pitch for Dev's post-match debrief) – was overlapping down our left side! ("If Massey scores, we're on the pitch!")

Sam Barratt cares about the club – you could see that from his opening goal celebration at Halifax – but, sadly, he had one of the worst cameos in recent memory, mis-controlling the ball out of play, misplacing passes, overhitting corners, etc.; their keeper – another whose distribution is better than ours – ultimately didn't have a save to make in the second 45-minute period of, let's not forget, a game that we desperately needed to win #whimper

The End by The Doors had, ominously, been stuck in my head all day; aptly, there's a boutique with the same name as the song on Ruislip High Street – we posed for photos with its signage on the way back to the wake at the Hop & Vine, following post-match discussions with De Havilland, Alan Dev, and Casey Pettit's Dad

Our time in the National League is, per the aforementioned song, coming to an end (with collective resignation that the money spent by football clubs is out of control and largely beyond our means, plus recent shenanigans at Dagenham & Redbridge show that the promise of outside investment is inherently risky); TBH, it has perhaps always been a case of when, not if, Maidenhead United (and Wealdstone) are back in the regionalised divisions (battling against the likes of Dorking Wanderers, Farnham Town and Maldon & Tiptree) ... but we will support them – and still visit Halifax! – regardless

Not enticed by the prospect of another lengthy journey on the Met line and bearing in mind that it only takes 30 minutes or so by car, Ally S. suggested getting an Uber ride to Maidenhead (less than a tenner each), and that's what we did after me and Macleod (M) had gone for food at Tesco Express and McDonald's, respectively; our subsequent walk home from the station was a sombre one (not helped by news of some of the remarkable attendances at clubs in the divisions below)

Eagle-eyed and/ or long-standing readers of the blog (don't laugh!) might (1) recognise this paragraph and (2) have noticed that I only started writing regular or semi-regular diary entries – for every match in 2017/18, whether I was in attendance or not, and for every League/ FA Cup/ Trophy away game I've attended thereafter (except, I think, for reasons unknown, the 0-0 draw at Aldershot on NYD in 2019) – since our Conference South title win, and I'd vowed to myself that I'd continue to do so until we were relegated back to the regionalised wastelands (always likely to happen at some point); as such, whilst I intend for there to be future entries covering our annual end-of-season tradition, e.g. #FDXXIII at Ebbsfleet (yuk!) next Saturday, I think there's a good chance this will be the final semi-regular, bog-standard Away Day Diary, so, just in case, I shall take this opportunity to once again thank all of those who have contributed in some way (featured, mocked, read, liked, shared, or whatever) – it's been emotional. M.U.F.F.

(BBC report; match highlights)

On the day that Maidenhead United can be relegated from the National League after eight years, I've just woken up with a start, having - for the first time - dreamt that I was drowning (trapped beneath a rock on a beach). I don't think we need Dr Melfi to work that one out! pic.twitter.com/YBbnhpIxId

— ɢᴏ ᴍᴀᴅ ᴏʀ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴄᴀʀɪɴɢ (@gomadstopcaring) April 21, 2025

Away Day Diary: Halifax Town 0-2 Maidenhead United (12/04/25)

Hope. It's the hope that kills ya. After a lamentable and soul-destroying 1-0 defeat in the massive relegation six-pointer at D&R, Alan Devonshire's charges had surprised everyone (except perhaps themselves) with a deserved 3-1 victory over in-form and playoff-chasing Tamworth at York Road the following week, so our survival chances weren't dead but remained on life support – it was imperative, especially after away wins for Boston and Woking on Tuesday night, to string consecutive league wins together (hopefully, five of them), for the first time since early October, and next up was a game at one of our favourite and most visited destinations in recent years (the Shaymen had also won promotion to the National League for the 2018/19 season) ... one where we have a winning record (P10 W6 L4, going into Saturday), dating back to a legendary Trophy match in 2004:

14.02.04 FAT W 2-0 Hale, Yaku ~ "Hale and Yaku at The Shay"; "Alexa, play Modern Romance"

09.09.17 NL L 2-3 Goodman, Marks ~ my birthday!

13.01.18 FAT W 4-1 Emmanuel (2), Pritchard (2) ~ lower division Stockport in the next round, who we led 2-0 at half-time in a replay; that shoulda/woulda/coulda been our season for Trophy success :(

30.03.19 NL W 1-0 Obileye ~ important win, took us 11 points clear of relegation rivals H&W

18.01.20 NL L 2-5 Mensah, Upward ~ sandwiched between a 2-2 draw and then a 3-1 home defeat vs Halesowen in the Trophy

30.01.21 NL W 3-2 Orsi-Dadomo (2), Coley ~ lockdown season

21.08.21 NL W 2-1 Barratt, Ferdinand ~ a last-minute winner on opening day

06.11.21 FAC L 4-7 Acquah (2), Kelly (2) ~ an 11-goal FA Cup thriller!

25.02.23 NL W 1-0 Nathaniel-George ~ prompting the hitherto most recent of several celebratory group photos, over the years, in the Three Pigeons

13.02.24 NL L 1-2 Sho-Silva ~ midweek game, rescheduled; the Magpies on the receiving end of a painful 98th-minute winner

A stopover in Halifax (as we did last January despite the match being postponed because of a frozen pitch before we'd even made it to King's Cross on Friday afternoon, resulting in the rescheduled midweek game mentioned above) would have been preferable, but Macleod (M) – the social butterfly that he is – was attending a Boys Wonder gig in Shoreditch the night before and had refereeing commitments on Sunday, so I was on the 05:56 (!) from Maidenhead on Saturday and Macleod (M), who'd stayed over in London after the gig, joined me for breakfast in McDonald's outside King's Cross; after a slightly delayed train journey via Leeds, on which topics of conversation included The Bootleg Beatles, the MUFC Supporters' Player of the Season vote (Reece Smith for me) and Oliver Holt's ranking of the 92, we met with Steve H. aka the Sweetie Blinder aka Solihull Steve in glorious sunshine outside Halifax station and started a pre-match pub crawl that went as follows: København (better than before; our first meeting with a couple of lapsed Arsenal fans who've completed the 92 and are close to finishing the National League), Vocation (better than before; we sat on the roof terrace, as we had done ahead of the opening day win in 2021, joined this time by the Crosbys, the Smiths and the Batemans #MobbedUp), Meandering Bear (cheaper than before; the lapsed Arsenal fans recommended a place just up the road), and Hop In (a new one for us, and a welcome addition; Steve H. insisted on buying us bottles of his favourite beer – which Macleod [M] and I didn't really want, and which he didn't drink himself! – while Phil W. steadied his pre-match nerves with a 12.5% stout)

Lacklustre first half preceded me noticing – while munching on roast potatoes with chilli during the interval (The Shay remains the National League ground with the best food) – that Tristan Abrahams was warming up on his own, suggesting he was definitely in the doghouse (after his perhaps understandable reaction to being hauled off at D&R) or that he was coming on; it was the latter, thankfully, and his spirited performance helped galvanise those wearing black and white stripes (on and off the pitch)

I remarked as time was expiring that we'd tried hard but had lacked quality, which I think was a fair assessment ... then the ball found its way to substitute Sam Barratt, with a clear opening on his left foot at the edge of the penalty area, and, unlike last month at Forest Green Rovers (when he had passed up the opportunity to shoot), he buried it – cue pandemonium in the away end

Fifty-seven of us were jumping for joy once again a couple of minutes later as Shawn McCoulsky bagged his 12th league goal of the season with a deft finish; other results hadn't gone our way (not least Solihull winning at Southend), but we didn't care too much about that as Best Years of Our Lives (apt), Allez Allez Allez and other MUFC victory songs reverberated around The Shay, and we serenaded a steward who looked like Art Garfunkel!

After celebratory beers and a group photo in the Three Pigeons (hopefully not for the last time), an expert supermarket sweep in the Sainsbury's outside Leeds station, a return train journey that featured groups from Scunny, Donny and Grimsby (Grimmy?) 'bantering' with one another ("Where's yer steelworks gone?!") and a walk back to Cox Green, I made it through the front door just before midnight – 18 hours after leaving home!

Xcellent away day, but the bottom line is that we're still five (essentially six) points from safety with only four games left to play; as the legendary NFL owner Al Davis famously said, "Just win, baby!"

(BBC report; match highlights)

Your fans were brilliant never shut up! I hope the 3 points are crucial for you. pic.twitter.com/yZXpbrMHI6

— Danial Clark (@ClarkDania77609) April 12, 2025