A Strange Day in Billericay

Tuesday 17th June in Billericay – there are days in football that defy the ordinary, when the game becomes less a contest of tactics and talent and more a skirmish with the cosmos. This was one such day. Under a blinding blue sky, the Leyton Orient over 60s Reds weren’t merely chasing promotion; they were seemingly locked in battle with mischievous Norse deities, as moments of injustice, inspiration and improbable drama unfolded across three surreal matches.

Their opener, against bottom-feeding Stones Athletic, was, on paper, a gentle reintroduction to proceedings. In reality, it was a cruel masterclass in missed opportunities and mischief. With new-boy Okocha snarled in M25 traffic, Howard was handed a start upfront and quickly linked well with Cox to forge chances. Orient dominated possession, composed and patient, but found themselves thwarted by a goalkeeper seemingly channelling Lev Yashin – a man possessed, saving low, high and even a penalty struck with venom by Cox. Okocha arrived for the second half. A shot. The ball crossed the line – all the players saw it, the bench saw it, perhaps even the birds above saw it – but, somehow, not the man in black. No goal. And when a speculative Stones strike, their only one of the contest, nonchalantly flicked over bar by T Weston, was followed by a harsh penalty awarded for not-walking, fate took a darker turn. Weston’s body met the ball, but it went under him or, possibly even through him. Loki, the Norse god of mischief, it was whispered, must be in the stands. Final score: Leyton Orient 0 v 1 Stones.

If that result bruised the soul, the Reds’ second match, against unbeaten, table-topping Bexley, would test body and mind. Feeling the gods against them, the Reds regrouped. This was football played with purpose. Discipline reigned, passes snapped with intent, and Pillay began dictating tempo, feeding Okocha with clever balls through the dense midfield. Again, Bexley’s keeper stood improbably tall. Divine inspiration? And then, as the ball ping-ponged around the Leyton Orient box – a wild Bexley swing flew through a maze of legs and beat the unsighted Weston. Once more, Loki grinned. But this time, Orient responded with fire. Cox, a bundle of attacking urgency, arrived to bolster the press. Pillay picked a perfect channel. Okocha, always the man for the moment, spun and rifled home – a thunderous finish that rasped against the net and rattled whatever Nordic mischief remained. A draw, but a statement. Final score: Bexley 1 v 1 Leyton Orient (Okocha).

Orients’ final act of the day came against Grays Athletic, whose position at the foot of the table belied a first half in which their keeper performed feats bordering on the absurd – clawing, tipping and denying the Reds repeatedly. Still, pressure tells. As the first half neared it close, a penalty awarded for encroachment. Redemption offered. Cox stepped forward and, this time, blasted home. Fist raised to the heavens. Message sent. Then Okocha found his rhythm – a characteristic turn and finish that spoke of muscle memory and menace. Paul Weston, having joined the fray, took Okocha’s pass and curled in a delightful third, his effort kissing the post on its way in. Okocha would add a fourth before a theatrical Grays penalty, gifted via a Riverdance-worthy run-up – oblivious to the referee – offered Loki one final laugh. But by then, the game – and the gods – had been beaten. Final score: Grays Athletic 1 v 4 Leyton Orient (Okocha 2, Cox, P Weston)

W1, L1, D1 – the infernal ratio no Leyton Orient team wants to settle for. But as the sun dipped and the numbers settled, news filtered through: other results had conspired – this time in the Red’s favour. The league deficit had been reduced – one point from the promotion places. Tyr, the Norse god of justice and whose name is the origin of Tuesday, had apparently been working quietly behind the curtain.

Speaking afterwards, captain Nad Pillay was philosophical. “It was a strange day’s football,” he said. “The whole team played really well – great discipline, attitude and perseverance. With Conlan at the back, we gave up very few chances but somehow conceded three goals. We fashioned more than twenty shots but finished with just four points – and yet, despite wanting more, we moved closer to promotion . But, as the great footballing rock god and Gooner, Mick Jagger, once foretold: ‘You can’t always get what you want. But if you try sometimes… you get what you need.’ God only knows!”

Indeed.

Leyton Orient 60s Reds squad: Tony Weston (Gk), Nad Pillay (Cpt), Tim Conlan, Paul Weston, Micky Howard, Alan Cox, Andrew Okocha.

Goalscorers: Okocha 3, Cox, P Weston

© Copyright 2025 Leyton Orient Walking FC
Image used © 2025 Trevor Ridley