Our Season In Bits: A Sideways Look At The Trials and Tribulations of the Cryptic Lemons and Hove Albion F.C. By Assistant Manager Charlie Mattinson.
The 2003/04 season draws to a close and the Forgers League prepares to issue its swansong to all discerning players, fans and the odd security guard. I reflect on a campaign that although proved not to be the treasure trove laden with riches that all had come to expect, it had still thrown up enough gems to be mulled over during a quiet summer’s stroll under the rays of sunshine flickering through the willow trees around a certain sand-based synthetic pitch on Collegiate Campus. Known more familiarly as The Field of Dreams. Many would say this was an improvement or evolution if you will, from that of the previous season’s 4-a-side team that respectably reached a hard fought semi final. The 5 players, myself included, which brought forward and laid the foundations for the newly formed Lemons’ were ever confident of success from the awaiting 7 or 8 months. Excitement was in the air. Results were inconsistent for us in the run up to Christmas. Achieving well battled but unconvincing victories followed the week after by a humiliating defeat preceding comfortable 9 and 11 goal wins tested every player’s inner belief and each found sanctity in the knowledge that he and his colleagues had the ability and discipline to gain a bear-like grip on what was truly theirs, that being footballing finesse and teamwork that breathed an air of grace. In short, boys became men. The Christmas break was a welcome one, with some players choosing to spend it together while others preferred to enjoy merriment and nostalgic reflection on the year passed with a gentle, possibly romantic evening of quiet beauty in their own personal haven. Scunthorpe is a lovely town. The results that ensued after the yuletide period were as refreshing as the bitterly cold air that came to establish itself in the coming months. Victories were carved out through the pain of dry throats, foggy breath and blurred vision as the inhospitable temperatures dragged at everyone’s heels and stung at their tired muscles. The league leaders were toppled in a game that can only be described as blood sweat and tears taken to new levels and pushing physical and emotional boundaries. I still have a crater in my leg. The battle was in vain however as dear reader, the warriors, soldiers, martyrs and gods that were the Cryptic Lemons and Hove Albion FC fell short. Each and every man’s reserves were pulled from the deepest depths of their soles but that wasn’t enough. Girly whirly, namby pamby, hoitey toitey, willy nilly, FANNYING ABOUT lost us promotion. I bid you farewell. This was dedicated to our leader and guru David James King. If he ate less pies who knows what could have been made of the season.