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.
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
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