After six consecutive wins, featuring as many scrappy and/ or fortuitous victories (Maidstone; Worthing) as there were performances suggesting a possible title challenge (Dover; Bath – the latter so good I'm starting to think it was a dream), Josh Umerah hobbling off with a troublesome knee injury and JvS flapping at a corner (again) contributed to a 1–0 home loss to previously winless Eastbourne Borough, and the Magpies – as we're frustratingly prone to do – segued seamlessly from a good run into a bad one (P4 W0 D1 L3 F1 A4 in the league before Tuesday night); I'd been at the Eastbourne game and had planned to attend the home fixture vs Tonbridge Angels the following Tuesday, but ultimately decided to go to the Barley Mow pub quiz with my Dad instead because of the latest Ticketpass debacle (MUFC's continued use of 'the ethical ticketing platform' despite being fully aware of its reliability issues is exasperating, and charging full price for the Tonbridge fixture – when fans couldn't even buy discounted tickets online – only reinforced for me a sense of general incompetence and persistent disregard for everyday supporters)
For various reasons, I had annual leave booked on the Tuesday, so my first thought, naturally, was a pub crawl (train to St Denys via Southampton Airport Parkway and then the likes of the Bookshop Alehouse, the Guide Dog, and the Beards & Boards Craft Beer Bar – don't laugh! – en route to the bus stop closest to the Giddy Bridge in Southampton city centre), but an unreschedulable work meeting came up for Willie T. (the same thing happened to me – honest! – when we were supposed to see Sleeper in Oxford last month), so I offered to drive; Macleod (M) and I left at 17:15 on a journey characterised by roadworks and rain, and soundtracked towards the end by radio commentary of Arsenal's comfortable win at Slavia Prague
Concord Rangers and Poole Town were among the small number of clubs mentioned in response to 'Worse National League South grounds than this,' after we'd parked in a large puddle on an industrial estate and followed the gated, muddied gravel path past AFC Totton Prestige Hand Car Wash to the Snows Stadium turnstiles; the Stags' home has presumably changed considerably – for the better – since Paul Canoville ran amok for the Magpies here in a pre-season friendly in the summer of 1990, but there are no covered standing areas (an inconvenience as rain fell again at the start of both halves), and the End we were initially attacking had only two shallow steps of terracing behind its goal ("You've got a worse ground than Slough Town")
The Maidenhead Pele looked to have been fouled in the area early on, though those wearing blue were the better side in the opening stages, and we could count ourselves fortunate to be only one behind, a scrappy-looking goal from a corner needlessly conceded by Ryan Bartley and defended with the six-yard-box authority (or lack thereof) we've come to expect from JvS; however, after the referee had awarded us a penalty for a clear foul on Jordon Ragguette, duly dispatched by Umerah (who didn't look fit), we played much better for the rest of the half and put increasing pressure on their goal, manned by a nervy-looking ex-Bristol Rovers keeper whose haircut was mercilessly mocked – to the tune of The Cranberries' Zombie – by the travelling support
Out inexplicably early for the second half, with Remy Clerima – fresh from an appearance on Monday night in the abomination that is the Baller League – on for a presumably injured Manny Onariase, the Magpies continued on the front foot, but appeared incapable of turning possession into goals, and I got the distinct impression that the players were as aware as the fans of the likely script: huff and puff, fail to score (or even trouble the opposing keeper), and concede an eminently preventable one at the other end
That's what happened, of course, with Kai Yearn – otherwise composed, if a little lightweight, in central midfield – keeping the ball in play but in doing so gifting it to the opposition, who sliced us open with infuriating ease (Bartley, once again, not covering himself in glory); after that, they looked more likely to score a third than us an equaliser – not even the introduction of Sam Barratt and, umm, that was it for attacking subs, could turn the tide (you might be unsurprised to learn)
The entire squad got an on-field and expletive-laden earful from the manager, if not the fans, after the final whistle, but it felt a bit performative to me; these are players – many of them, no doubt, relatively expensive – signed and selected by Dev, so he deserves as much criticism as them, IMO, and the onus is on him to make the necessary changes to right the ship
Our return journey wasn't much better than the outward slog, the lack of rain aside, with the closure of Junction 2 on the M27 forcing a detour via Romsey; not even news of Slough in the relegation zone after losing at home could cheer us, and conversation turned to gigs (I still can't quite believe that Goldie Lookin Chain at Sub89 on Friday is a sell-out and we haven't got tickets!)
No longer does the promise of a new stadium (Braywick is seemingly back on) represent a light at the end of the tunnel, at least as far as I'm concerned ("We'll probably end up with the ground-move equivalent of taking £4m instead of £8m"); upcoming away trips to Leamington (in the Trophy) and Winslow (in the B&B) now stand out as small beacons of light in the gloom of a season that increasingly feels wasted, thoroughly dispiriting, and possibly legacy-tarnishing :-(
(MUFC report; match highlights)
Better than some other recent efforts but still not good enough to gain any points.
— Murdo Macleod (@MurdoMacleod6) November 4, 2025
We look bereft of confidence and leaders across the pitch. Too many not doing enough.
Stuck in a rut.
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