And so Parkway head into the biggest game of their lives this weekend with a win. A win over a side unbeaten in thirteen. A 2-1 win over Wimborne Town at Bolitho Park.

Goals from Callum Hall and Toby Down see Parkway move into Saturday’s FA Cup fourth – and final – qualifying round against Chertsey Town, with a little more confidence than they would have had before kick-off.

After a slight dip in form recently – one win in the last four – Parkway have reminded themselves that they have what it takes to grind out victories against awkward opposition.

The drummer had brought his drum, of course, and was down an hour early getting his wrists warmed up. His mates, the young die-hards it appears, came to join him slowly. Five or six were there at first but before kick-off they’d made their own little ultras section. It was them that the Parkway players would come to celebrate with after the final whistle.

The regulars in front of the media seats discussed their travel plans for Saturday. Down in Cornwall for the weekend but getting the train back to Plymouth for the day. Can’t miss this one.

It was an old school game of football; those of us in the stands withstood the agony of Wimborne’s long ball after long ball, waiting for those glimpses of what Parkway can do.

And they did it. A few times. They got that ball down and zipped it about, on occasion. Wimborne did all they could to spoil that fun, and they made hard work of it for Parkway, but they got there in the end.

Mikey Williams was excellent at both ends of the pitch. Anytime the visitors looked like causing trouble, he’d stick a big fat toe on the ball and nick it away. He would dive into tackles it looked as though he had no chance of winning and somehow emerge with the ball glued to his feet.

When he had that ball, he would find the passes, create little one-twos, and cut the Wimborne midfield in two, time and time again. I’d watch him, sensing what he was about to do, and think NOT THERE MIKEY!

He’d slip a pass into a man surrounded by three or four Wimborne players, who would kick lumps and throw elbows at whoever received it, follow it in at top speed, and come back out with it again.

I could barely follow the sight of the ball from my cushy seats in the stands, so the bewildered looks on the Wimborne faces didn’t surprise me.

Wimborne started the game in a frantic state, almost a panic. They gave Moses Itauma energy, swinging wildly, desperate to take the head off of their opponent early. Rationally, one would think, there’s no way they can keep this up. But there’s the fear, too, I hope they don’t keep this up.

Parkway looked stunned for those first five minutes as Wimborne threw everything they had at them, playing like a team a goal down in a cup final with five to go.

Defenders Down and Ryan Brett held firm, clearing away ball after ball, but there was a sense building early that one of these was going to slip through at some point. A slight loss of concentration, or a miskick, from one of the boys at the back and Wimborne would be in.

Parkway’s first goal was against the run of play, as these things often are.

A long ball over the top, going nowhere, dribbling out for a goal kick, was suddenly kept in with a lunge by Henry Donovan. The ball found its way to the feet of Rocky Neal, who duly laid it into the path of Hall to finish. And Parkway were one up.

Wimborne continued at their frantic pace, making for a scrappy game. The ball would bounce around the pitch, pinball style, while Wimborne players sprinted non-stop after it. They moved their bodies quickly, and they shouted football-related terms loudly, but didn’t really offer much in terms of real threat.

Parkway, spurred on mainly by Williams, got the ball down a few times and looked excellent when they did so, but they were restricted to only a few slick attacks in this way. Every time Parkway threatened, the move looked eerily similar to the one before; a ball won by Williams, laid into the path of Hall or Rio Garside, who would then seek to put through forwards Neal or Donovan.

As the half went on, Wimborne began to either tire, or run out of ideas. They resorted even more aggressively to the long ball. It was perhaps credit to their incredibly strong quadriceps that almost every long ball was just a little too long. So Parkway keeper Aaron Dearing spent most of his evening scooping up Wimborne’s long balls. A sentence, I’m sure, he’ll be delighted to read.

The equaliser came with the last touch of the half. A ball in from the left hand side ricocheted off multiple blue heads, before finally connecting with Joe Smith’s. It turns out that his head was the one destined to guide the ball past Dearing on this particular night, and to send Parkway gaffer Karl Curtis to the changing rooms, ripping up his notes en route.

Reece Thompson came on and made a nuisance of himself in the second half. His first involvement was to have his eyes gouged by a Wimborne man and somehow give a free kick away in the process.

A chronic sufferer of the tall man’s curse, he was manhandled constantly. His appeals often came to nothing.

Mikey Williams was denied a penalty. A vintage one-two saw him driving into the box at speed, only to be wiped out by the Wimborne keeper. The referee was having none of it. Wimborne broke and won a soft free kick near the half way line. You can imagine the crowd’s response. Their disdain was shared freely.

The referee may have inadvertently done Parkway a favour by denying the Williams penalty, as the atmosphere went up a notch there and then.

The drums got louder, the chants got more frequent, the pints were going down lovely, and the fans were getting looser with their tongues.

The game took on a real feel of jeopardy. I would have bet my entire life savings (about five quid) that this game was not finishing a draw. Somebody was going home heartbroken tonight. It was there for either side to take.

It’s a lovely free kick from Rio Garside that floats into the Wimborne box in minute 84. Almost in slow motion. You know those moments where you know a goal is coming? Not generally, but in that specific moment.

It seemed to go in at half speed and my eyes darted to the left to lock onto Toby Down, who I just knew was about to put this game to bed.

He got highest and headed the ball into the back of the net, and it was as though a pressure valve had been opened. The tension of the last fifteen minutes was cleared and the game was done.

Everybody in that ground sensed a goal was coming. It was just a case of who, for whom, and when.

Wimborne got a late goal of their own, disallowed by the referee in the 90th minute. He had blown milliseconds before the ball was thundered into the back of the net. Joe Smith, Wimborne’s earlier scorer, is not happy. And he lets the referee know about it.

Chants of you’re gonna cry in a minute can’t be contained from the Parkway superfans in the corner.

The whistle blows. And it’s done.

There’s an air of celebration for a hard-fought victory on the night. But thoughts do turn straight away to Saturday. Better to go in with a win under the belt. But it was far from decisive.

The players have their moment in front of the fans. Toby Down is the hero tonight.

Karl Curtis has some thinking to do.

Who will be the hero on Saturday?