Righto, crack a tin — this one went well. Blackheath were like prawns on the barbie, mate.

Preparations began Friday night, where the Aussies were handed home DJ duties and PK crowdsourced warm-up tunes via WhatsApp. The lads demonstrated a frankly worrying encyclopaedic knowledge of Australian music. Morale: high. Sleep: meh.

Come matchday, punctuality was… poor and apologies were scarce. The boys were reminded that Blackheath had beaten us earlier in the season and hadn’t won since. Verdict: yeah nah, we owe ’em one.

Warm-up was eerily quiet after Sutton forgot to charge the speaker. Tragic scenes, should have got DotD.

Blackheath rocked up with a bare 11 — brave stuff — against an Optimists side bang in form, fresh off 13 goals in three games and rolling deep with a full bench. Theo Coombs and Ben Stone floated in from the 2s making way for Aussie signings higher up the club, while TJ and Jimmins selflessly “took one for the team” and headed to the 4s. Also on the line: The Battle of the Stones™️.

The opening ten minutes were all Folkestone… without a goal. Naturally, Blackheath scored first. 0–1. That was the wake-up slap.

From there it was one-way traffic.
Haz Rowe hit back on the counter, rounding the keeper and absolutely leathering it straight down the guts of a defender bravely sacrificed on the line. 1–1.

Next up, Tom “The Pilot” Nicholls with what might be his first league goal at this altitude in a decade. Penalty corner, left slip, bang. 2–1.

Then a penalty stroke after Sam Ireland had one kicked off the line. With the skipper off the pitch, there was a sudden outbreak of shyness — until young Will Ball stepped up and calmly rolled it home. 3–1 at the half.

Second half was more of the same. Blackheath barely crossed halfway, chances came thick and fast, and plenty went begging.

PK eventually joined the party from a penalty corner, taking an eternity over the shot, whilst Blackheath just sort of… waited. Thud. 4–1.

Fin Letley followed with an outrageous little dink over the keeper into the top bins. Huge scenes. Letley senior impressed. No hug. Kapow! 5–1.

Another corner, PK, thump. 6–1.

And finally Wardy, doing Wardy things — interception, deflection, rocket… who knows. He's a cheat code. It went in. 7–1. It's Wardy's world, and we're just living in it, mate.

Late on, with Folkestone rotating positions like a BBQ roster, BEHC managed a rare shot that Boots dealt with comfortably. No dramas.

Best Stone? Jury’s out — neither really tested.
Man of the Match votes everywhere — proper team effort. Theo won it by a whisker.
DotD somehow went to Haz. Stitched-up. Again. He'll learn.

So that’s us rolling on. 3rd in the table, three points from Holcombe at the rop, two off Canterbury in second.

Next up: Holcombe (H). Top of the table. Not all-or-nothing, but it’s a big one. We'll have a right old tear up.

Let’s go big.
Let’s go hard.
Let’s smash ’em up.

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