Colchester Conquered
- David Ingham
- Aug 25
- 5 min read
Colchester (A) - EFL League 2 - 23rd August 2025
Five games in and thanks to a holiday and my boycott of Harrogate Town Saturday’s trip to Essex was my first chance to feast my eyes on Whing’s Bluebirds 2.0. I’m not a dodgy stick owner or a Sky subscriber – I don’t even like listening on the wireless, to be honest – so all I’d seen was the comments and reaction on social media which is, of course, the natural home for fair, measured and balanced content.
So, at half six on a balmy Saturday morning and I’m stood waiting for the bus into Lancaster for the train Dahn Sarf. Even the festering smell of someone’s Friday night piss in the shelter did nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for the day ahead. A coffee stop at Greggoire’s Patisserie and on to the station. Not many football fans around although I did exchange pleasantries with a family off to watch Burnley. The journey itself was uneventful, chewing the fat with my travelling companion Christopher and the usual public transport soundtrack of bleeping tablets and inane phone chat.
Euston saw plenty of QPR fans in good spirits, off to Coventry along with a load of Villa on their way to Brentford. Remember lads n lasses, never let the football spoil your day out. We hopped on the tube to Old Street and made our way for a beer n curry breakfast before wandering down to Liverpool Street and the train east, featuring the loudest family known to man conducting family admin loud enough to be heard back home in Norwich. Alighting at an overcast Colchester we picked up another Bluebird straggler from the Midlands and headed for pints. First up, The Magnet, which looked like a John Smith’s dupe pub, followed by The Victoria Inn. Good beer at a decent price in both, with the range of boxed ciders in the latter prompting debate as to why we can’t offer such things like that in the fanzone. Too much like hard work was the consensus view. A taxi to the ground up in the far northern reaches of the town and we were in our seats just in time for kick off – whereby Colchester punted it straight into touch. How very Cowley.
As I say, it was my first game so I spent the first 5 minutes with flashscores open, matching up the players and their numbers. We started well too – none of the lethargy from Harrogate, everyone snapping into tackles and closing their opponents down. A decent start was elevated on the 9th minute when Barkhuizen’s cross from the right was met by Earing who was initially denied by the keeper but knocked in the rebound. Cue delirium in the away end. Well, maybe not delirium given the sedate nature of the assembled throng (it was a gathering, not an ‘end’) but I leapt about and had a dizzy turn at least. Note to self, get stronger blood pressure tablets.
Colchester attempted to get back into the game, following their standard game plan of going side to side, trying to get their wingers in behind our wing backs but a combination of dogged defending and poor execution meant they were kept at arms length. The diminutive Jack Payne had the makings of being a pain in the arse, dropping deep to pick up the ball and Arthur Read was neat and tidy in the midfield trying to get them going. The home fans were soon subdued watching them huff and puff so it was possible to hear the gaffers on the touchline above the crowd. A passage of play around the half hour mark that saw us manage to combine some bad passing, a disjointed press and some slapdash defending saw Whing do his absolute nut on the touchline. He kicks every ball, doesn’t he? No studious aloofness here.
Whilst the competiveness was certainly there, we lacked a little on the ball. The Shipley-Jackson route down the left was riddled with errors and Booty and Smith couldn’t get on the ball to dictate play in midfield. Barkhuizen down the right was our main threat and I liked the cut of his jib, always looking to go forward and make something happen.
So, half time, one nil to the good guys and I spent the break chatting to various members of the diaspora including the absolute institution that is Dave Leitch and also reacquainted myself with the lady from Epping we met after the Wimbledon game last season. Turned out she lived on the same road as another Barrow fan who was also there. Small world.
The second half began with the Essex boys looking to get back on level terms. We were beginning to get pinned back a little and a weak Stanway kick on 58 should have been punished with an equaliser but their lack of quality in front of goal was once again telling. On 62 minutes, after the most convoluted substitution process, change was afoot with Jackson and Mahoney making way for Newby and the returning Whitfield who very nearly crowned his return with an immediate goal. Good to have you back, Ben.
On 71 Barkhuizen was booked for timewasting and I was beginning to get the sense we were in ‘clinging on’ mode but those fears were allayed pretty much straightaway. Good delivery from Booty, Raglan’s flick on and Shipley’s fearless headed finish. Two goals already from centre half – the Paul Warhurst for the watermelon vape generation. Cue more celebrations in our section and fights kicking off in the home end as some booed their own side. Things you love to see.
The remaining twenty minutes followed a similar pattern to the rest of the game. Colchester had most of the possession but we kept them largely at bay. Two excellent Stanway stops in short order on 81 and 82, followed up by another in injury time meant the points were heading north.
The players deservedly took the plaudits from the travelling faithful and thankfully Whing spared us the sight of the most low wattage fist pumps in the history of fist pumpery.
The journey home went swimmingly, fuelled by a few celebratory beers and not even running the social gauntlet that is the last train to Barrow from Preston could make a dent in the good mood. Home for half 11, a mere 17 hours after setting out, knackered but luxuriating in the warm glow of an away win.
So, my first game of the season done and dusted and not a bad way to start off my personal campaign. Are we the worst team in our history, as opined by various histrionic commenters on Facebook? No, absolutely not. Are we a good team? Well, we have the makings. Hopefully as the injuries clear up and we can settle into some sort of rhythm then we’ll see what we’re really capable of. 5 games down and a mere 41 to go. Christ, we haven’t even played in rain yet. Make performances like Harrogate the exception rather than the rule and we won’t go far wrong.
Onward.
Comments