“I’ve certainly missed having actual football to write about….”. Well, there’s 180+ minutes of deeply disappointing, frustrating, soul-destroying football to write about this week. Enjoy.
I was genuinely looking forward to the Aldershot game. We’d been away from Boundary Park for too long, and it was an opportunity to right the wrongs of the game at their place and try to get our promotion push back on track. In the early minutes of the game, I said “their fat number 10’s a busy little c**t, isn’t he?” Those words, sadly, turned out to be prophetic.
We had pretty much all the chances in the first half and were in control of the game, it just felt like we were missing a bit of a cutting edge. Reid made his first start since before Christmasgate but didn’t really show any signs of putting any W’s in any chats.
I can’t have been the only one thinking “what the hell does he think he’s doing, having a shot from there?” when new boy Corry Evans tried a ridiculous effort from 35 yards. It looked like it was going well wide, then looked like it was going in, before hitting the post. It would have been a hell of a way to make his debut.
We finally broke the deadlock in the 41st minute, when Kay’s free kick into the box was met with a bullet of a header by Monthe to bury it. He made it look like a piece of piss. Don’t know why we’d made such hard work of trying to score up until then.

41st minute, a perfect time to score! Right before half time, go in ahead at the break! Well, that’s how it should have been, but our defence had other ideas.
Aldershot launched a long ball up the pitch which we completely failed to defend, and Barnett chipped Hudson to pull them level. Then they did exactly the same thing again, we did the exact same thing again, and Barnett did the exact same chip again. What the fuck?
After we’d dominated the first half, and they hadn’t had a shot on target until the 44th minute, we all hoped that the players would get a rocket up their arses at half-time and come out all guns blazing, but sadly not. We were sloppy at the back again, Widdrington squared it to Barnett in the box, and the busy little c**t completed his hat-trick in 10 minutes of playing time. What the ACTUAL fuck? Why are we completely incapable of defending against these?

Having brought Lundstram on at half-time for the injured Evans, we made a triple substitution 55 minutes in to try to turn things around. Jeering off your own player really isn’t helpful, kids. Pack it in. Do you really think Kay’s gonna think “Oh thanks for bringing it to my attention that I wasn’t at my best today, I’ll try harder next time”?
A blatant foul on Lundstram in the penalty area in the 65th minute gave us a golden opportunity to get back into the game, but the way our day was going, you knew we’d find a way to fuck it up. There was another unseemly debate about who was taking the penalty, and I remember saying “aw bless, Waters thinks Fondop is gonna let him take it!”. With hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have. It was a decent save, but it summed up our day. Three shots on target for them, three goals, no goals or points for us, fuck off football.
Mellon pulled no punches after the game, describing the goals we conceded as “rubbish” – “we have never practiced defending like that”. He told the players at half-time that if they got the next goal, they were favourites to go on and win it, but it just wasn’t our day: “everything that came our way, we managed to try hard to mess it up”. What a shitty, frustrating game.
On a more positive note, the comedian Rosie Jones was at the match last Saturday. By all accounts she was fantastic company, and I’m told that she shouted at the injured players and James Norwood was slightly scared of her. We probably should have sent her into the changing room at half-time.

📸 OAFC Veterans
Predictably, some people were weird arseholes about her on social media. At best, they’re tedious dickheads who think that it’s a good use of their time to seek out people they ‘just don’t find funny’ and share their terribly important opinion that they ‘just don’t find them funny’ with the world. At worst, they’re nasty bigots who hate disabled people. Either way, they should be made aware that they always have the option of shutting the fuck up, and I would urge them to take advantage of that right.
On Monday we announced the loan signing of midfielder Tom Pett from Cheltenham until the end of the season. From his interview – “Speaking to Tom [Conlon], he sold it to me, the project is a really exciting one” – it sounds like Conlon’s personally recruited him as cover while he’s injured. He’s no youngster, and Mellon is clearly hoping that experience is going to be the key to winning games. He described him as “the complete midfielder”. He’s going to have to be.
Shout out once again to French Latic Jonathan Williams, who tells me that ‘pet’ is French for ‘fart’. Or it might be, depending on the conjugation. Constantly caring about your education.
Oh GOD, Boxing Day seems like forever ago, doesn’t it? How giddy and optimistic we all were. How much we were all looking forward to playing York. I wasn’t looking forward to Tuesday night’s game, I’ll be honest. I was kind of dreading it, and it turns out I was right to.
We missed the first 10 minutes of the game because we’re used to being able to leave the house at 7.30pm on a weekday night and still easily make it to our seats for KO. I know we were expecting a big crowd on Boxing Day, but I thought a lot of people wouldn’t be arsed coming out on a Tuesday night in January when Liverpool were on the TV, but the queue for the Rocky turnstiles went right back onto Sheepfoot Lane. It was a bit chaotic in the ground, and I do feel for the stewards in those situations, because it’s not often that there aren’t many seats available, but I did wince when I heard people stood in the stairwells being told to “squeeze in a bit”. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t one of the recommendations of the Taylor Report.
I hear we didn’t miss much, but we did seem to be giving it a go in the first 20 minutes or so. Alas, we are still utterly incapable of defending free kicks. Hudson made a decent save to palm away Hunt’s free kick, but we were way too slow to react to the rebound and Fagan-Walcott tapped it in.
If that was disappointing, the second goal was infuriating. Their keeper launched it up field, no-one closed down Felix and he was free to cross it into the box. Hudson got both hands to Pearce’s shot but could only punch it upwards and watch as it trickled in slow motion into his own net. It was horrible to watch.
We huffed and puffed but we didn’t look like scoring. The midfield looked like…well, like they’d never played together before. Monthe had a decent chance that went wide. At half-time, I couldn’t help thinking, “if my dad had taken me to Anfield when I was a kid, I could be watching Champions League football right now, and my neck and back wouldn’t be spasming and my joints wouldn’t be seizing up with the cold”.

📸 Phill Smith. Watch where you're putting your arm there, Elon.
It was a better second half, but it felt like we could play until the coach was setting off for Gateshead and we wouldn’t score. Fondop hit the bar, and Norwood had a shot that went wide (and Fondop was furious that he didn’t square the ball to him, which was never going to happen), but it just wasn’t happening. Stones came on in the 61st minute, got the welcome everyone expected, and didn’t really do anything. The 6 minutes added on time was just fucking cruel.

I believe that Monthe got MOTM, presumably for having kept Stones quiet. Personally, I’d have given it to Waters, because him whacking the ball into Fagan-Walcott’s bollocks to put it out for a corner was easily the most entertaining moment of the night.
Gutted, freezing cold and in pain, I hobbled to the fans’ bar at full time, where the bar staff asked if I wanted ice in my red wine. Twice. Fold the club.
I know we’ve lost some key players, but this looks like an entirely different team to the one that outplayed Tranmere and was the better team at Leyton Orient for 90 minutes. Where has the resilient mentality we had earlier in the season gone? We looked so assured in defence before Christmas, why are we so hesitant and nervous now?
On Thursday we announced that Jes Uchegbulam has gone on loan to Eastleigh for the rest of the season, and Alex Reid has gone back on loan to Wealdstone. Sending Uchegbulam out on loan seems very odd – he didn’t sustain the form he showed at the start of the season, but he’s a very good option to have as an impact sub (see: Tranmere).

📸 Jesurun Uchegbulam. Literally any excuse to share this again. Go well, Jes.
Bringing Reid back for a month when we knew we were losing Stones and letting him fight for a place…. maybe makes sense? Kind of? Ish? Or maybe we really did just want to ruin his Christmas, I dunno.
We announced the signing of Matt Worthington from Yeovil yesterday. 27 years old, box-to-box midfielder, Yeovil fans gutted to see him go.... Look, you can do your own research, it's nearly 10pm on Friday night and I've fucking earned a glass of wine.
With Stones and Clucas, we would have won the league. I’m fully convinced of that. Without them, we have to right the ship, and fast, because it’s heading for the ocean floor. Or, less dramatically, mid-table. I’m praying that this is just a blip, and not a repeat of our post-new year collapse last season.
Some things are more important than football, and we’ve had a sad loss in the Latics family this week. Peter Shipman, Ste Shipman’s dad, passed away on Monday. He was a lovely gentleman, a dedicated supporter, and was always great company. He once called Andy (extremely accurately) a “big awkward c**t”, which was all the more hilarious because I’m pretty sure that was the only time I ever heard him swear. Rest in peace, Peter. You’ll be very much missed. All our love to Ste and the family.
Safe travels if you’re off to Gateshead today. If I were you, I’d sack off the match and go drinking over the river in Newcastle, it’s a brilliant city. Take your binoculars if you do go to the athletics track. I hope we’re doing a victory lap at full time. We can but hope. KTMFF.

📸 Oldham Athletic
Written by Arlene Finnigan
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