Dulwich Hamlet 4, Harrow Borough 0

To Transpontine del Curva! …on Saturday afternoon for the latest instalment of Guess the Game.

It turns out that it was Harrow Borough who were down at the Hamlet. I felt a fraud for not knowing. I was in decent company as dear old Programme Bill confessed he didn’t know until he picked up the programmes.

My kinda club.

It was a rare of afternoon when I was actually in the ground before kick off. This never happened back in the day, and I’m not entirely sure why I managed to make it in time to hear The Voice of Champion Hill reading out the teams.

It was a good job as well, with another bumper Saturday afternoon taking in the Transpontine sights of Tuscany: 2,012 - Woh. Each and everyone gave a polite round of applause when the attendance was read out.

My Dulwich universe however was entering parallel proportions. I still can’t get my head around The Rabble gracing Toilets Opposite with their presence.

My photo walk around the ground during the first half lacked rhythm. If this was anything other than a Crap Report, then I would make the lazy journo comparison about the teams on the pitch.

But that’s why I bash out hit and miss blog posts, rather than write some wanky tactical column for the bloody Graun.

A charming chat with Dulwich Dooley then followed. He broke off midway conversation to press his phone to his ear.

Fair enough, fella. A call from the missus no doubt.

But nope.

Dooley had one eye on the football, one ear on Channel 4 racing being streamed down the other end of the modern interweb.

As ever, this never use to happen back in the day.

I caught up briefly with Mishi:

“I enjoy looking at yours, as much as I think you enjoy looking at mine.”

Oh dear.

We were talking about photo archives, Comrades.

Mishi has a most impression one.

The remainder of the first half was taken up with a Brixton Buzz editorial meet. I didn’t take notes, but the language was unlike what you would hear sitting around the work meeting room.

And then there was the game.

Apologies, but even the scoreline got a little lost on me as I attempted to come to terms with the 90 degree Rabble splitters.

“Can you hear the Toilet sing?”

etc.

It did all mean that it was slightly more relaxed in the Car Wash End for the second half. It almost meant that I got an ACE view of the comedy ‘keeper sending off for Harrow.

The poor fella caught the ball inside the box, and then fell over outside - whilst still holding the ball.

Whoops.

See ya, pal.

The Harrow No. 10 was put in-between the sticks. This was the signal for Dulwich to take piss.

A lob that I would have been proud of standing in the gents then took place on the pitch. The ref appeared to ‘celebrate’ the goal with some weird robotic dance. I think that he was just signalling a goal.

Other goals followed. I haven’t the chuffers who scored, or how.

I was hit by a ball behind the goal rather hard. I winced like a little girly.

And so 4-0 to the Hamlet - a final score that flatters, but was still plenty of fun.

I wonder where the nomadic stand hopping will end next?

I fancy a hybrid of the Tommy Jover getting a little over-friendly with the Rabble at the back of the Car Wash.

Edgar Kail in my heart…