A More Considered Opinion

You've pretty much summed it up.

But I'd also add, fecking feck f**k, bollocksing feck, c0ck womble, feck faced lady gardens!!!!

You missed the "sack the Board/manager/groundman/pastie man" bit

ditto from me.

exactly how I felt.

I've never seen 2,000 people leave a ground so deadly quiet.  no (outward) anger, no booing.   Just so, so, so disappointed not only at the result, but the performance, the timing of the goal, and the dubiously quality of their goal.

just so frustrated at our best chance of 'success' for many, many years and fecking it up.

Fortunately went to pub, had beer, food, and chat to a stranger gashead, and slowly the mist cleared from my eyes.  Long journey with mate and did something totally different on sunday to take mind off it.

I'm still p'ed off, frustrated etc but more positive now.

Spot on; exactly the same for me.

When we led on Saturday, I genuinely felt like it was our "destiny" to do it. Don't get me wrong, I don't exactly believe in fate; but nonetheless, it really felt like it was "meant to be" - I couldn't put my finger on why - it just did.

Then when Dover equalised, that feeling reversed. I thought back to the game Barnet played a couple of games ago when the opposing striker shot and hit BOTH posts. How they've had countless penalties, a huge number of matches against 10 men etc. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying it's all luck that they are where they are, but when it comes down to a SINGLE point, even a slice of good fortune can make all the difference; and Barnet have had enough to last a lifetime.

That said, a few more minutes and it would have been entirely in our hands. But we f**ked it up.

I HONESTLY feel worse than I did when we were relegated last season. I was sure we'd go down in October (no exaggeration) so had plenty of time to get my head round it. When we led on Saturday, I was 100% convinced this was our time. Gutted.

Totally go with this, tried to sit calmly watching Stelling hopefully not talk about a Barnet goal.

It didn't last long because the nerves took over, much to the amusement of wife and kids I said I'm off upstairs for a shave to try and kill 20 minutes, shouted down after 10 minutes and assured no change in scorelines.

The thought a quick shower would calm the nerves and see us up to 16:50ish, wandered downstairs, it was too much for the eldest and he was pacing in the garden.

Looked around corner of door into lounge and said any change? No was the answer with time almost up, glanced back at TV and there is was a Dover goal.

Cue a 15 minute rant John Cleese style effing and jeffing and repeating why do I follow this dung year after year, 30 years and a handful of joyous moments, you cant divorce your club, we're stuck with it.

Just hoping that Saturday is the day we can reverse the misery of this time last year and make a return to the FL, and Higgs soon buggers off into the sunset with a more capable replacement, like a spoon for example or empty cardboard box.

At least saturdays scoreline gave that tbone bloke something to moan about. The bloody troll.