If Clapham’s last game, against Ruislip Rangers, was a chaotic, beautiful Jackson Pollock, then this away trip at a struggling AFC Hampton was a turgid analogue of Tracy Emin’s filthy rotten mattress.

During a game where the real winners were the weather, pitch and a ridiculously aggressive ref, chances were always at a premium, with the team’s two conflicting styles nullifying each in an impotent footballing malaise. Winger Jimmy Branwood came closest to stuffing the onion bag, his free-kick pushed onto the post by Hampton’s goal guardian, before the same Xaverian brokered a bizarre game of pat-a-cake at the far post, when surely he should have nutted.

Strikers James Allen and Andy Douglas were also culpable of wastefulness, both ballooning presentable chances, on each occasion the ball catching a passing glimpse of the Tiangong Space Station as it re-entered the earth’s atmosphere. Meanwhile, Hampton were going longer than one of my wife’s anecdotes, only really troubling the Xaverians once, with the oppo striker’s profligacy and Clapham’s No. 1, Alex Jayes, saving the visitors’ blushes.

The post-mortem, held at the UK’s first ever non-ale pub, was a typically philosophical affair, the assembled mulling on mid-game formation changes, the post-war career arc of Albert Speer, end-of-season awards and Paul Latty’s confusing guest appearance at an EDL convention in Streatham, while the always amenable Hampton fellas took the opportunity to launch into an impromptu pizza-amped AGM. What a day!

Man of the Match: Martin McGourty

Spencer Grady