[Exile on Spencer St]

My abiding memory of Mr McEvilly is from a game in 2004 at Farnborough Town, where I’d taken Mrs Exile as her birthday present (I still try and spoil her).
Of the 706 fans, about 6 were supporting Stanley.
At one point the ball came hurtling towards where we were standing near the half-way line (one of Proccy’s passes, possibly) with Lee chasing after it in a desperate a attempt to keep it in play. Only a scaffold pole atop a thin bit of hoarding stood between us and the field of play and, as Lee approached, we assumed the brace position in anticipation of him crashing through it.
He didn’t but, as he came to a sudden halt gripping the pole, steam billowing from his shaven head, he was like an enraged bull frustrated at not having impailed his tormentor.
I don’t about Farnborough, but he put the fear of god into me!