The IVs arrived at the overflow pitches using a variety of transport – from cars to taxis and some hardened souls even walked along the A3 to get to the ground, which was useful for eliminating crush hangovers that people were nursing.

The game wasn’t a classic. We opened the scoring after Joss, of all people, curled in a very nice free kick on the 25 minute mark.  Chances were few and far between after that with unsexy but effective football being the name of the game.  The midfield hassled and harried after every ball and after a tense last five, minutes the fourths emerged victorious.

It was a well fought victory with a few moments of being caught unawares keeping the game going to the last minute.  A tough season awaits, though the performance and result bodes well…

A potential six-pointer saw the Comics line up against Old Bromleians, who were also 100%.  Comics started brightly with Dave and Rich W patrolling the midfield, Ganno and Anil marshalling the defence and Joe shuttling up and down the right wing. Despite good possession, the Comics couldn’t capitalise and the Bromleians took advantage of some poor marking to head home a corner. The Grafter and Oslo worked hard up front but with only a few speculative efforts on target, it was 1-0 against the run of the play at half-time.

The second half began brightly although again there was still no real cutting edge to our play. Abudy then thought he would liven things up by slipping and letting in a long punt from a drop ball.  (This was after Rich W was injured by a team mate again for about the 10^th time this season.)  Some of the opposition claimed a goal, some just stood there bemused while all of us looked sheepish.  Fortunately their captain intervened and sportingly hoofed the re-taken dropped ball back into our half for play to continue. Realising the clock was ticking, the Comics swarmed forward in search of the equaliser.  A Grafter pirouette and volley brought the best out of their keeper while Joss and Simon's hard work was left unrewarded.  It wasn’t to be our day.  There wasn’t much between the teams and after six games into the season we have done well, but there is a long way to go yet…

After two defeats, the Comics needed a boost to get back on track.  A cup draw against the leading team two divisions above us was not what we needed but Old Suttonians were damn lucky to scrape through on penalties.  A scrappy beginning saw the oppo edge into the lead with a poor goal being conceded at the back.  Joe and Mungo then started to boss the midfield and it wasn’t long before we were level with a nicely taken goal by Alex.  We could easily have had a couple more before Alex, who recently lost 12kg(!) due to a particularly nasty bout of food poisoning, contentiously beat their offside trap and smartly beat their goalie. After drawing level, they could have snatched victory had it not been for Anil’s ridiculously good headed clearance off the line while running toward the goal.  Defeat would have been unfair on the 4ths who were playing great football, looking menacing going forward and solid at the back.  On the 90^th minute mark, Joss almost sealed a win with a curling free kick bouncing off the bar.  Extra time loomed…

Five minutes in and Joe pounced on a loose ball from a corner to send us 3-2 up. Curse the ref (me) for not declaring golden goal.  Ol’ Suttons drew us back but despite a big effort we couldn’t find the winning goal.  When the Grafter's frayed nerves snapped, his legs buckled, and his nose bled through the pressure of it all, the cup dream was gone. Pizza Hut's adman's verdict - "face for radio". 

What a transformation (when Fran went off, having bizarrely inserted himself into a winning team at the expense of the goal-scoring Prothinator). The blizzard gave way to some sunshine, Anil and Oslo neutralised a previously dangerous Dorking left-hand side, Mungo and Gibbs worked hard to win the ball, and Joe did well to support the attackers, with our defenders easily standing their ground. Grafts struck again early doors, before many missed shots and clearances resulted in Ganno slotting home for the first time since Alex and Joe were 12. Joe scored his fifth in four games, and the Grafter got another two with neat finishes from tight angles. It could have been double figures if the goal had been regulation size, as Oslo’s late header rattled the bar. Brilliant second half regardless, with a high work rate and some great goals.

A resolute performance and some clinical finishing ensured that we came away with the three points against a well organised and determined Old Whitgiftians side.  Sean's words of class wisdom were still echoing in most people's minds from our last game against this mob and that was all the encouragement we needed.  The first half was goal-less, but the removal of Sean and Vini from the fray immediately paid dividends, as Joe pinged one in just after half time to give us the advantage, and this was promptly doubled after an Oslo header (though he didn't see it due to shutting his eyes).  A defensive calamity saw Whits scramble one back.  However, a potential banana skin was soon avoided by Alex doggedly tackling every one in midfield and releasing Rich down the wing.  At this point, for some reason only he will understand, the Grafter decided to pass. The Whits defender, temporarily distracted by the flying pigs, slipped on the icy turf (a side effect of hell freezing over) and contrived to knock the ball past his own keeper. 

At 3-1, the game was ours to control.  Pirate was dominating the midfield, Anil marshalling the defence and we think these 90 minutes was the only time of the week Alex and Joe weren’t thinking of X Factor.  Then Mungo, who had been wound up by his opponent niggling and kicking him the whole game, decided to take control of the situation.  One Whitgit left looking stupid and stranded on the floor later, Mungo homed in the goal and slotted home our fourth.  Nice.

A typical Grafter goal, a mis-hit (which, out of interest, is an anagram of i'm shit) cross, saw us take the lead in the first half.  Sustained possession counted for nothing however as their striker pinged one in from 25 yards just before half-time. In the second half we had all the possession and all they could muster was a couple of counter-attack breaks.  And it didn’t help that Gibbsy got a head knock just after half time leaving us effectively with ten men.  A Grafter break away and delicate lob over the keeper went agonizingly close towards the end while good efforts from Mungo, Oyvo and Alex would also go unrewarded.  Our spirits were slightly cheered on the journey home with Oyvo regaling the time he had to chew through a door when he got locked in his bathroom…in fact Joe was enjoying the journey so much that he pulled the emergency cord so it could last longer.  Disappointingly, the guard didn’t fine him (bottle of dogs bollix in 16 seconds) for his crime though we have made a note to do so. 

Later, Rich, Oyvo, Fran and S.loppy, aka 'E4' (can you guess the gay one? it's tough), belted out Club Tropicana (barrel 2004 version) at Sean’s karaoke bash, Oslo got back on the sauce after his 90 mins respite that afternoon and Alex discovered sat nights can be fun even without X Factor on the TV.  Worryingly, one less-than-salubrious player ignored his earlier denials and ended up in infernos.  However, the less said about Richie Wood on this occasion the better…

This was definitely a “game of two halves” as the 4ths came out looking like a different team. Rich Wood and Gibbs took control of the midfield and we finally started playing some nice football. Joe should have scored but missed when through on goal, but in a carbon copy (Goddard through ball...) he managed to miss the keeper and score. In order to distract attention from the celebrating Joe and ensure know one would talk about the goal, Anil decided to incite a riot by kicking their youngest and smallest player. The resulting melee involved nearly all players except Joe, who was still celebrating. Anil’s cries of “but he started it” were generally excepted as true and Fran restored calm. After that excitement there was time for a fourth from Alex. 4-1 was a deserved scoreline and drunkenness for most followed. 3 more games and 3 more wins needed for the title. If Fran stays off the pitch, and Sean recovers from the back strain caused by romping with a 20-stone woman on Saturday night (bribe Coops for picture), it could happen!

With the championship decider just a week away a number of players came to the conclusion that today was a game they could do without, and when arriving at the barren wasteland it was hard not to agree . It was ridiculously  windy, the pitch was terrible, the opposition two leagues above us and worst of all Samadeus, recruited from LSE 5ths, had turned up.

Despite the logical advice of Joe and Alex, having won the toss Fran decided to go with the wind first half. The following 45 minutes resulted in some of the worse, yet comical, football many will have ever witnessed. Ball after ball was put over the top, with the wind, as the 4ths abandoned their sexy football of the season, having come to the conclusion that the wind owed us a goal. A few chances fell our way with Joe lobbing the keeper but also the bar on the bounce and Alex executing a delicate chip that sailed 20 metres over the bar (and into the adjacent field) . Oslo was forced off with a boot related injury and was replaced by Doug to the obvious detriment of the football.

With the 4ths now forced to play the ball on the ground, we started playing a lot better. Confidence was returning to our passing game and we looked dangerous. The sucker punch came when a long kick from their keeper (who hadn’t been able to clear his penalty area in the first half) plopped over everyone and their nippy striker put it away. Again we pushed forward and looked like scoring but in a carbon copy of the first the nippy striker grabbed a second. A consolation was got in the last minutes through Joe, whose show up front should guarantee that Lomas falls to fourth choice striker.

With a minimum of a draw required to seal the title, as the game kicked off there were plenty of nerves and no-one was able to retain possession.  It took a typical Grafter stumble and fall, his 21st of the season, to settle the early jitters and finally we looked like champions elect.  Just before half time Alex booshed in the second and all was good.  Oyvo came on at half time to replace Gibbsy and immediately demanded that people want the ball more. Joe volunteered, Oyvo’s pass to him split three defenders, cross came in and Al smacked home his second and our third.  Sorted. Or so we thought. Abudy was soon getting the ball from the back of the net after they scored and he enjoyed it so much that he let them do it again. The inevitable equaliser followed and we were on the back foot.  The ref showed his true colours and the 15 minutes remaining turned into 30.  No matter, we still pressed forward, Richie W, playing a blinder in the middle of park, missed an open goal and while the rest of us were fretting about the scoreline Mungo bolted forward and smashed the woodwork with a venomous shot.  Final whistle and relief turned to joy. Champions. No less than we deserved.  From nowhere Ganno, like his football, produced some vintage and the celebrations were under way.  Similar to the league, on Saturday night we came, we saw, we conquered.  The Grafter was pathetic at eating sushi, Joe and Al introduced us to drink and dare (how they spend their Saturdays with no X factor), Ganno was issued with pass for the evening and had to put Al in his place a couple of times, Mungo completed his dare with no fear and much sloppyness ensured. Stand up for the champions.    

As the sun beat down on a horrible pitch , a bemused and soon to be heavily disappointed crowd looked on, and we brought the noise on Reigate in the grandiosely titled ‘Minor South Spring Cup semi-final’. First blood - and indeed all six bloods - went to the Comics.  Nicknameless John impressed early doors with some good pace and movement, and was soon rewarded with a chance from eight yards, which he comfortably despatched.  Lomas nipped in at the near post to double the lead soon after.  At half time the only worry was whether the defence would have anything to do in the next 45.  As the second half started, much of the crowd were beginning to get annoyed with the level of quality on display.  One of them was a pre-marathon Dave Gibbs, who decided to direct his abuse at their hapless keeper, very nearly becoming the only ‘player’ to get a booking.  He just loves it too much.

The defence too were getting restless.  Proth, Al and Doug all began making unlikely runs into oppo territory.  Without exception, they came to nought.  Lomas made it 3, the fourth was scored by someone called OG, and then Mungo took over.  The prankster played a pass off the post to Joe, who bundled the ball over the line with some difficulty.  Jimmy then scored what may be the goal of the season, curling a dipping thunderbolt of a slice in to the top corner.  Everyone was stunned - most of all Mungo.  At the finish, it was 6-0, and there was no-one at all left in the crowd.  Bring on the Minor South Spring Cup FINAL.