Bayern Bromley

London Senior Cup Final – Kingstonian FC v Bromley FC

Tuesday, 30th April 2013, 7.30pm

Imber Court (Metropolitan Police FC)

Distance 2 miles, Attendance 469

Sitting here looking at the programme post-match (like I do) – sunny evening, cold Peroni in hand – there’s something I can’t quite get my head round. The design is wonderfully understated with clear information yet, Kingstonian listed before Bromley..?

Naturally there will be a perfectly lucid rationale behind this anomaly however I can’t recollect another “Official” Cup Final programme where I’ve seen this. Usually, in a vain attempt to demonstrate impartiality, sporting organisations stick to the primary school basics of the alphabet. Of course they also sometimes sell the trophy for thirty beer-stained pieces of silver and, force feed fire-worky atmosphere for the benefit of the watching media moguls. Thankfully tonight was very different.

Arriving at Imber Court way before kick-off there was a chance to spot the changes since my last visit; there were none, just two enthusiastic teams going through the paces, a man on gate telling me to buy more golden goal tickets (that I never win), the teabarloo (you’d understand if you’d been there) and, fans, their children, and club officials mixing amiably and freely.

Studiously watching proceedings Alan Dowson was happy to greet all and sundry, Mark Goldberg was elsewhere probably warming up tonsils for his ninety minute shoutfest. Having caught up with the Watford-supporting announcer and two of Non Leagues favourite photographers, I took a place behind the dugouts. Behind the ends flags were hoisted and ticker-tape thrown skyward; to my left Marcus Gayle was chatting to well-wishers, behind dignitaries adjusted club ties and before us, the teams lined up in the setting sun.

With little previous knowledge of the Bromley Boys (yes I’ve read the book but that was half a century ago) the play all seemed very even despite Bromley being a division higher. Eight minutes in however, The Lillywhites showed they’d improved somewhat since Dave Roberts’ formative years. Glancing up from my camera trained on their fans behind the goal, I was just in time to see Elliott Buchanan fire home from the edge of the box. It was then I noticed the real change this evening.

Usually Imber Court has the unenviable reputation as one of the quietest grounds in the country; tonight however it was rocking (relatively speaking); both sets of fans were in fine voice and both teams were hoping to please.

    

The entertaining first period continued apace with both sides having good chances between some heavy challenges; sadly for the Isthmian League outfit Bromley extended their lead before a leveller could be found. Louie Theophanous hit a low cross behind the defence and Aaron Rhule slotted home at the far post. It was harsh on the Ks who’d held their own since the opener but, goal it was and a halftime score of 2-0 to Bromley.

With Bovril and chocolate out of the way, I was joined by an amiable trio foolishly cheering on “the other lot” or geographically supporting those nearest to them (or something like that). Putting the football world to right, our exchange formed the backdrop as Kingstonian fought tirelessly to get back into the game. Forty five minutes and a sending off later, they got their wish as Jamil Okai hit home in a crowded box but then, the ref spoilt the moment by immediately blowing for time.

Starting with one chap struggling to open the gate to the grassy side, there followed the most well-heeled pitch invasion I’ve ever seen. Strolling towards the jubilant players – cameras in hand – we invaded not just the playing surface but also the world of the professional photographers; snapping away at the festivities. The cup was raised, whale waved, fans cheered and handshakes offered all round.

After the spirited fight back, Kingstonian truly deserved more but it wasn’t to be their night. The Ks fans should still believe in their magic Alan Dowson (I’ve always been fairly impressed by his commitment and cordial manner) and even stand by the “Barcelona of the Isthmian” claim. They should take pride in their team, and their efforts, whilst realising tonight they just came up against the Bayern of the Conference South.

However they were listed on the programme, both clubs made it  an enjoyable Cup Final before a good sized crowd; the traffic certainly hadn’t been that bad since Billy Ocean showed up two years back. The club ties were vast and varied, songs sung loud, Messrs Pigeon & Stand made fine company, and twenty-odd years too early, I was – for the first time ever – offered senior citizen prices at the turnstiles; yes, a pretty good night all in all.