Orient Over 60s End Their Cup Run In Harmony

Billericay – 14 October 2025: EWFL 60s League Cup Finals

There are tournaments that test the legs. And there are tournaments that test something deeper – belief, patience, the unspoken chemistry between men who have played too many games to be easily rattled. For Leyton Orient Walking FC’s over 60s Reds, this was the latter.

Injury, fatigue and fortune – those eternal gatecrashers of footballing ambition – all took their turns trying to unsettle a team whose unity has long been their truest advantage. Yet by the end of the day at Billericay, third place in the EWFL League Cup felt less like consolation and more like confirmation: that football, when played with intelligence and integrity, still rewards the brave.

They had arrived with form behind them – four wins, a single goal conceded in the qualifying rounds – and a sense of quiet confidence. But twelve hours before kick-off, the news came: Conlan, the defensive organiser, out with a late injury. Woods, the metronome in midfield, also sidelined. For a side built on rhythm and reliability, it could have been destabilising. Instead, the Reds tightened ranks, adapted, and set about proving that cohesion can outlast circumstance. The format – two mini-leagues, with the top two contesting the final – demanded perfection. The Reds would have to navigate Division One’s best and the Division Two champions. It was never going to be easy.

The day began against top tier runners up, Romford – quick, technically neat, and familiar opponents who have often provided both benchmark and bruising. Okocha’s journey through the Dartford Tunnel delayed him to the brink of kick-off; there was barely time for a stretch before he was chasing the first long ball.

Romford started as expected – sharp on the ball, confident in possession, shifting Orient’s defence from side to side. But if they expected gaps, they were made to search for them. Howard was immense, commanding the defensive line with quiet authority. Burns, P. Weston and Pillay matched his concentration, closing lanes, tracking runners. And behind them, T. Weston was in the kind of form that defines goalkeepers in tournaments – reflexes sharp, decisions sure.

Orient’s first-half display was stoic, occasionally scrappy, but always disciplined. Then, in the second half, came flashes of what makes this side more than the sum of its parts. The passes began to stick, Pillay found pockets, and Okocha, finally loosened up, started to drift into space, forcing Romford’s keeper into action twice.

When Romford were awarded a penalty T. Weston guessed right, diving low to his left to push the shot away. Minutes later, Dave Gregory – Romford’s ex-Millwall pro – rattled the post with a strike that expected more. At full time it ended goalless, and though the scoreboard said stalemate, Orient’s players walked off with shoulders squared. They knew what they’d faced, and what they’d resisted. Final score: Romford 0 v 0 Leyton Orient.

Next up came Bexley – the reigning national champions, a side built on geometry and precision. Their passing was tidy, their pressing relentless, and yet Orient stood their ground. The contest was even nearing the break, when a moment of misjudgment altered everything.

Howard, backpedalling as a forward cut across him, clipped his opponent’s heels – more clumsy than cynical, and certainly away from goal. Still, the referee reached for blue and pointed to the spot. The penalty was dispatched with venom; Weston had no chance.

Down to five, Orient regrouped. They didn’t grumble. They simply adjusted. Pillay and Burns dropped deeper; Okocha tracked back; P. Weston filled the space intelligently. When the numbers were restored, the Reds pressed higher, sensing vulnerability. Twice Okocha stung the keeper’s palms.

Then farce turned to theatre: a blue card flashed at Okocha for failing to retreat three metres from his own free kick. Confusion reigned until, in a rare show of decency, Bexley’s captain appealed for reason – the decision reversed. Even so, momentum had been lost. Orient finished stronger but without reward. A single goal defeat, harsh on the balance of play but revealing of character. Final score: Bexley 1 v 0 Leyton Orient.

If the early games tested resilience, the final clash with Billericay Town Blue tested resolve. Earlier games had made the permutations interesting: the Reds still had a chance of advancing. Any win would secure a third place play off; a two goal margin and a draw between Romford and Bexley, the final.

Orient began as if the message had been underlined in the dressing room. The passing was urgent, direct but deliberate. Pillay ran the midfield; Burns and P. Weston tireless down the wings. Okocha, now fully in tune, was electric. He beat his man early, then dragged a shot just wide – a warning. Moments before half-time, Howard threaded a pass through the defensive line, Okocha shimmied, shifted, and finished with calm precision – one up.

With single goal advantage, and the other match level, hope flickered. Orient could yet sneak into the final. The Reds re-emerged with that thought fuelling them. It took minutes. Another pass, another feint, another trademark Okocha finish – goal number two. The kind of moment that makes time stand still.

And then, inevitably, controversy. Pillay – card spotless all game – intercepted cleanly but was shown a blue card for reasons known only to the man in black. Stunned silence. Even Billericay’s bench looked embarrassed.

The home side rallied, pulled one back, and threatened a second, but Orient’s composure held. And when Pillay returned for the last few minutes the Reds pressed for a third – in vain. The referee’s apology at full time came too late to matter, but not too late to be noted. Romford rallied to best Bexley so the scoreline proved moot. The Reds would now battle for third place. Final score: Billericay Town Blue 1 v 2 Leyton Orient (Okocha 2)

Eastwood Falcons Yellow, fourth in Division One, awaited – capable, organised, and eager to spoil a script that was already writing itself. Howard made way for Mullins, who stepped in from the sidelines with composure and calm authority, while P. Weston slipped effortlessly into the back line. The Reds were in no mood for messing. From the first whistle, they played with intent – crisp in passing, confident in possession, and utterly unwilling to surrender control. Mullins was the quiet chronometer, keeping the rhythm steady, while Pillay, venturing forward, saw a curling effort brilliantly tipped onto the bar.

Eastwood were no easy opposition, well-drilled and dangerous if their talented striker was given space, but Orient managed the game with the assurance of experience. The midfield compact, disciplined; the defensive cover instinctive. When Eastwood’s forward finally found a glimpse of daylight, T. Weston responded with the sort of save that lifts teammates and drains opponents.

And then came the artistry. As Eastwood foolishly left Okocha one-on-one, Burns twice picked the perfect pass, Okocha twice teased his marker, and twice the onion bag bulged. The third, also assisted by Burns, was pure theatre – a roll, a drag, a finish so deliberate it drew applause even from neutral voices. A hat-trick for the ages. For Orient, it felt not like defiance but fulfilment – football played the right way, ending the season not with noise, but with quiet, polished authority. Final score: Eastwood Falcons Yellow 0 v 3 Leyton Orient (Okocha 3)

Captain Nad Pillay summed up the campaign, “We had to dig deep. The injuries didn’t help, nor the decisions, but we stayed together and did the job. Third place and one defeat in seven Cup games – I think we can hold our heads up. A fine way to end the season. Congratulations to Romford, worthy Cup winners."

He paid tribute to the squad’s adaptability – Mullins’ late inclusion, Conlan’s decision to stay and support despite injury, and the collective willingness to sacrifice style for solidity when needed.

So, third place. But this only tells part of the story. This was a campaign about endurance and elegance, about staying true to the game even when its margins seemed stacked against them. Okocha’s brilliance lit the path, but every man in red played his part.

T. Weston’s gloves preserved points; Howard and P. Weston provided calm and distribution at the back; Burns proved an essential supply line; Mullins stitched the threads together. Pillay held it steady, not with fanfare but with quiet authority.

At full time, as the afternoon sun remained hidden behind the clouds, the Reds lingered on the pitch – shaking hands, trading laughs, replaying moments that would stay with them. Football at this age is no less fierce, no less beautiful. It’s played with pride, for friendship, for memory.

Leyton Orient over 60s Reds left Billericay with only bronze medals but also carried something richer – a reaffirmation of what they are, and what they represent. A team that defends together, suffers together, and, when the chance presents itself, still dances in harmony.

Leyton Orient squad: Tony Weston (Gk), Michael Howard, Paul Weston, Neil Burns, Nad Pillay (Cpt), Andrew Okocha, Mick Mullins, Tim Conlan.

Goalscorers: Okocha 5

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