19. Sean Farrell (10, 64m)
21. Carlo Castronovo (5, 45m)
Report by Dave Boyle
At last. After 810 minutes of winless football, it happens and we win. Our first win ever ever. First time we score more than two also. First time we take a two goal lead. First time we hang on for dear life. But that's for later.
500 and odd turn up to Cheshunt FC's ground which lies beyond the M25 and past the end of zone 6. Goodness. Cheshunt has two bars in the ground though and a boardroom area; more board playpen than room. I though it was very endearing, he said sounding a little like Bill Bryson. (If anyone from Broxbourne Council Environment Department is reading this, cut the nettles on Theobalds Lane on the approach to the ground. Tsk. Someone will have an accident there one day.)
Tonight's bauble was the Supporters Direct Trust Cup, cast in solid gold, standing 2 feet high and specially commissioned to recognise the fact that both clubs are new to the non-league scene after being formed by supporters tired of being abused by the owners of the club and feeling that ultimately, it wasn't the same club that they once supported anymore. That's a lie really - the Cup was silver plated and is a satisfying 18 inches high.
The game kicks off and I've got a good feeling. I don't know why. I just have all week. Maybe it's hope over experience? Real football then.
My optimism is rewarded though on 6 minutes when we break down the left and Joe Sheerin side-foots in a good low cross. We're ahead. We look confident and good value for it too. Enfield attack, but we don't let them threaten. We do though, and we're breaking through midfield a lot and look dangerous. Kevin Cooper tries to curl one in to the top corner - it's not far off. A gooner watching the match with me says that he went for the full Bergkamp. 2 minutes later though and Cooper gets the ball on the left hand side of the D, flicks it back over the defender and volleys it into the top corner. It's a cracker. A stunner. That was the full Bergkamp. We only score great goals after all. Remember Gazza's goal against Scotland? Apart from Hendry not falling over here, and it being a low shot and maybe being little more towards the centre of the goal, it was identical. It didn't have an overweight Geordie scoring either - though this goal matched it for skill.
Half-time. Pinch myself. 2-0. A clear bit of daylight between us. Blimey. Am I dreaming? I don't know, but that's what the defence are doing (neat set-up eh?) just after the restart when Enfield play right through them and get one back. But just when I'm allowing myself to think the worst, we break and slide rule pass puts Lee Sidwell through, who slots home to restore the two goal cushion (too many clichés, coming in too fast!
What is a slide rule pass? I don't know, coming from the age of calculators. But it was low, it was weighted perfectly and dissected the opposition defence, so it'll do for me.
We press on, as Claire Rayner was wont to say, nearly getting a fourth (Four? Are you mad?) when a fumble by the keeper hits the post and bounces back into his arms. Remember Pagliuca's fumble in the 1994 World Cup Final? Apart from being a lot cooler and having 100000 fewer Americans in the crowd and no Joao Havelunch, it was exactly like that.
Would we regret it though? We still look dangerous coming forward, but defensively, we can be caught out. Enfield get behind us a few times and cause a scare. Not knowing the exact time of kick-off starts to become a real problem. 10 minutes to go? 5? Jesus, it's bad. Enfield score from a ball that really should have been dealt with.
They keep pressing. Enfield corner. Then another. It's hard. We're getting behind the team, chanting for them, willing them to hold out. It's so close and the players look as anxious for us to not blow this one as we do. Then the ref blows and we've done it. The first win, and the first piece of silverware.
Brian Lomax, Managing Director of Supporters Direct, comes out to present the cup which I'd just tied blue and yellow ribbons to. The players come over the salute the supporters, and Brian takes matters into his own hands and walks over to the team with the trophy which is presented to Joe Sheerin. The players celebrate, and so do we. It's not Wembley. But it's ours.
After Leatherhead and Wealdstone, it is exactly what the doctor ordered with the kick-off 5 days away. A win under our belts and smiles on faces of fans and players alike. This is more like it. Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines. The season is about to begin.