Written: February 2nd, 2019 — Before Watty Got the Sack

There’s an old saying: “Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.” It may not be the most poetic phrase, but it certainly sums up my long-standing (and largely self-inflicted) grudge against Felixstowe & Walton United Football Club.

My reasons for falling out with the club? Frankly, they were never all that solid. Years ago, they kept benching Ninky McKinnon — which I took personally, despite having no real skin in the game. I told a few people what I thought, and the fallout wasn’t pretty. That was strike one.

Strike two came with the merger between Walton United and Felixstowe Town. Then, a ridiculous disagreement over darts with a prominent F&W figure gave me all the justification I needed to go full stubborn mode and distance myself entirely.

Watching From Afar

Despite the grudge, I followed the club’s fortunes from a distance. When my good friend Watty took over the reins, he invited me back on more than one occasion — but I declined. Worse still, I may have slightly criticised the club on Facebook after a drink or two. But I made a promise to myself: I’d attend a match this season, their first in the Isthmian League.

I missed the Olly Murs charity game and another planned fixture due to illness, but eventually, Saturday 2nd February 2019 rolled around. I left my house and walked five and a half minutes to Dellwood Avenue, arriving just after 1pm — the first time I’d set foot there as a fan in years.

A Warm Welcome (and Even Warmer Ale)

First stop was the clubhouse, where I was immediately greeted by none other than Mr. Daynes — his surprise at seeing me was matched by his warmth in welcoming me back. Inside, I caught up with old mates: Geezer, Pinder, Dunney. Beers were flowing, laughs were shared, and more familiar faces turned up as kick-off approached.

Out on the terrace with Bolty, pint in hand, I watched F&W net a goal almost instantly. Turns out I’d missed the first — the score was actually 2-0 by the time I arrived pitchside. Seasiders Cask Ale in hand, I felt like a lucky charm.

Half-time came and went with another pint and a Brexit debate with Dave Lambert. Heybridge were awarded a penalty early in the second half — I shouted that Crumpy would save it, only to realise Crumpy wasn’t in goal. But Jack Spurling stepped up and denied them anyway.

Not long after, it was 3-0, and with that, I headed back to the bar, job done.

A Fitting Return

A few more pints (seriously, Seasiders — that’s your fifth mention; I’m owed a freebie) later, I was snapping selfies with players, fans, and staff alike. It was one of those days that remind you why football matters — the camaraderie, the community, the shared highs and lows.

By 6pm, I was tucking into a Chinese meal from the nearby takeaway, satisfied with the result both on and off the pitch.

Felixstowe & Walton United deserve huge credit. The commitment shown by the club, its committee, and supporters — male and female, young and old — is outstanding. You’ve built something to be proud of.

My long-running “feud” with the club was always more humour than hostility. And now it’s over. I’ll be back.

Final Shout Outs

A nod to the Ainsley brothers, whom I’ve known for many years, and to Danny Bloomfield and the absolute legend that is Julian Dicks. Even after his team lost, Julian stuck around to take selfies and sign autographs for the fans. Pure class.

The only downside? Watty couldn’t be there. But there’s always next time.

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📝 Summary

An honest, humorous, and nostalgic reflection on returning to Felixstowe & Walton FC after years of self-imposed exile. A feel-good tale of football, forgiveness, and Seasiders Ale.