Match report: Fisher FC v Wingate & Finchley

Fisher FC 0-5 Wingate and Finchley

Monday 9 Nov 2015
London Senior Challenge Cup

fisher v wingate 10nov15(5)by Deano

There’s a passage in Roy Keane’s autobiography ‘…And Fucking Stay Down’ where he’s recounting his time as manager of Sunderland and was concerned about his players choice of matchday music: “the last song before the players went on to the pitch was Dancing Queen by Abba… They were going out to play a match, men versus men, testosterone levels were high. You’ve got to hit people at pace. Fuckin’ Dancing Queen”.

I’m thinking of this while the players come out for the second half as the Fall’s version of Lost In Music fades out over the stadium speakers. That’ll get the players into gear i think, that’ll lift the spirits, have ’em hitting the opposition at pace. And i was right. Sort of. It was Wingate who seemed all fired-up by Mark E Smith’s stretched northern vowels, and from the whistle the ball rarely left Fisher’s end for most of the second half, definitely felt like they were caught in a trap, no turning back. The palace of excess leads to the palace of access. Hideaway! The grubby working class, they can’t get rid of us that easy.

Yet the game started well. Monday night football. A pitch black starless sky, floodlights blazing their mega-wattage across the damp sweet smell of fresh grass lingering on the frosty cold November air. You got to love a bit of Autumnal late night football. Fisher began eager enough, had a couple of decent chances on goal and it took Wingate a good half an hour before finding the back of the net.

First half Wingate play the long ball game, hoofing it upfield at every opportunity for the forwards to latch onto, route one as they used to call it when every football fan used to hate it, and thankfully still does. It does the job though and because Fisher seem to be going through a crisis of confidence at the back it worked well in Wingate’s favour, challenging for possession round the box they always seemed to come up with the ball. First two Wingate’s goals were sloppy, lucky affairs; a half-hearted long range shot that limped in through the uprights followed by a scrambled multi player effort that had the ball bouncing around the penalty area before connecting with a final Wingate boot.

Going in at half time with a two goal lead gave the visitors a bit of breathing space and a chance for the Jesus and Mary Chain to do what Abba couldn’t. Me i’m on a mission of my own and order a pint of Southpaw from behind the bar. It’s fizzy London beer with a heady citrus kick. On a violently windy night like tonight it goes down lovely. I wonder what Roy Keane would make of Fisher’s performance so far?

Which is when things start getting surreal. They’re showing the FCUM v Chesterfield FA cup match on the big screen in the clubhouse courtesy of BT Sports. FCUM fans, who also own the club, are making their feelings known about being fucked around by the FA and big money TV companies. They’ve already had protests, banners and “Fuck BT Sports” chants, they’ve stuck to some good old fashioned defiant principles rather than glorying in the novelty value of ‘virtue signalling’ (which is basically the middle class showing off in front of each other). Still people can watch FCUM get a pasting on TV rather than watch Fisher get a pasting in real life. So everyone wins.

The second half Wingate simply bombard Fisher with everything they have, it was a matter of survival, personal pride, a sense that things were slipping away with every odd refereeing decision, every ball booted 50 yards into the unknown, every turn of back luck. Third goal went in off the post, the fourth was another goal mouth scramble and was immediately followed by what was Wingate’s best goal of the evening, a beautifully weighted cross from outside the box, expertly finished from a difficult angle. Wingate finish on a high.

Fair play to the Fisher keeper, despite letting five in he made a couple of outstanding saves which prevented total humiliation. It was an untidy game and not played out under the friendliest of terms, and yes it’s only a cup game, but still these things breed despondency and despair.

Unhappy mondays all round.

Attn: 71

Matchday wardrobe:
Fjallraven Byron hat (dark olive)
Lonsdale two-tone grey hoodie
Firetrap black polo shirt
Scruffs work trousers (brown)
Hyena Ravine safety boots
The look: straight from fucking work


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