Thirty-five games played. Seven to go. And Atherstone Town found themselves in a position that nobody—least of all Paul Howarth—had dared imagine back in August.

Second place. Sixty-three points. One point behind Long Eaton United at the summit, and two clear of Grantham Town in third. The Northern Premier League Division One Midlands title race had become a two-horse affair, and the Adders were very much in the hunt.

But February had not been without its challenges. Far from it.

Unwanted Departures

The news arrived like a punch to the gut.

Seb Auton, the goalkeeper who had been a consistent presence between the sticks all season, had decided to leave. Petersfield Town, down in the Wessex League, had come calling, and for reasons Howarth struggled to comprehend, Auton had accepted. A free transfer. No fee. Just gone.

The timing could not have been worse. With the promotion battle reaching its climax, with every point mattering more than the last, losing your number one goalkeeper was the kind of disruption no manager wanted. Howarth made no attempt to hide his frustration. This was a player he’d trusted, a player who’d been part of something special, walking away when the finish line was in sight. It stung.

He wasn’t the only departure. Callum Carsley, the left-back, moved on to Spelthorne Sports on a free transfer. Sam Barratt joined Reading City, also without a fee changing hands. Ezikiah Bowen and Zack Littler were both released, each seeking the regular football that Atherstone’s congested squad couldn’t guarantee them.

Five players out. The squad suddenly looked thinner than it had in months. Howarth would need those who remained to step up.

Back to Business

The response, at least initially, was everything Howarth could have hoped for.

Quorn visited Sheepy Road on 6 February, and Charlie Kirk settled the contest inside two minutes. Two minutes. The kind of start that takes the sting out of any opponent, the kind of goal that has the home crowd believing from the first whistle. The remaining eighty-eight minutes were comfortable, professional, and ultimately uneventful. 1-0. Three points. Two hundred and fifty-four supporters went home happy.

Carlton Town 2-2 Atherstone Town

Saturday, 13 February 2027. Bill Stokeld Stadium. A hundred and thirteen souls braved the conditions, eight of them having made the journey from Atherstone.

Luke Murphy gave the visitors the lead on 22 minutes, a well-worked goal that suggested the Adders meant business. Will Houghton doubled the advantage four minutes into the second half, converting on 49 minutes to seemingly put the game beyond doubt. 2-0 away from home, cruising.

Carlton had other ideas. Luca Robinson pulled one back on 58 minutes, and suddenly the home side sensed an opportunity. The final half hour became an exercise in hanging on, Atherstone’s lead looking increasingly fragile with every passing minute. And then, on 83 minutes, Jeremy McMahon struck. 2-2. Two points dropped from a winning position, and a long, quiet journey back to Warwickshire.

Atherstone Town 4-0 Sporting Khalsa

Saturday, 20 February 2027. A statement performance.

Will Houghton was simply unplayable. The striker, who had been in devastating form throughout the second half of the season, opened the scoring on 36 minutes. Two minutes later, he had his second. A quickfire double that left Sporting Khalsa reeling, the kind of clinical finishing that separates promotion contenders from the rest.

Josh Steele added a third on 52 minutes, and Charlie Kirk completed the rout on 54 minutes. 4-0. Two hundred and seventy-two supporters witnessed the demolition, nineteen of them from Khalsa. The visitors had no answer to Atherstone’s relentless attacking play, and by the final whistle, the only question was how many more goals the hosts might have scored.

It was the kind of performance that sends a message to the rest of the division. Atherstone Town were not here to make up the numbers. They were here to win.

Reality Check at South Kesteven

Grantham Town 3-0 Atherstone Town

Saturday, 27 February 2027. South Kesteven Sports Stadium. Five hundred and twenty-eight spectators, ten of them in Atherstone colours. A wet afternoon that would leave a bitter taste.

The Adders arrived at Grantham knowing the stakes. A win would put serious pressure on Long Eaton at the top. A defeat would hand the initiative to their promotion rivals. What followed was, by some distance, the worst performance of Howarth’s tenure.

It started badly and got worse. Sam Edgington, Grantham’s deep-lying playmaker, struck on 10 minutes. A low drive from twenty-three yards that caught the Atherstone defence cold, the ball fizzing into the bottom corner before anyone could react. The away end fell silent.

Three minutes later, it was two. Josh Steele, usually so reliable at the back, made an error that allowed Mason Lee to pounce. The target forward showed no mercy, finishing into the bottom right corner from close range. 2-0 after thirteen minutes. The game, in truth, was already over.

Howarth’s half-time team talk was, by all accounts, volcanic. But it made no difference. Atherstone huffed and puffed in the second half without ever truly threatening, and on 82 minutes, Lee completed his brace. A header from just inside the six-yard box, the kind of goal that comes from a striker in confident mood. 3-0. Atherstone’s title challenge had suffered a significant blow.

The game’s report noted that Aaron Ford, the referee, had been good on the day—even if some in the away end might have accused him of bias towards the hosts. But truthfully, there was no one to blame but themselves. Atherstone had been second best in every department, and the scoreline flattered them.

The defeat saw Atherstone relinquish top spot. They had been there, briefly, after the Sporting Khalsa demolition. Now they were looking up at Long Eaton once more.

The Big One

Atherstone Town 1-1 Long Eaton United

Saturday, 6 March 2027. Sheepy Road. Three hundred and thirteen spectators crammed into the ground, eight of them having made the journey from Long Eaton. 

First versus second. The title race distilled into ninety minutes. A win for either side would be a significant step towards promotion. A draw would keep things deliciously poised.

It was a draw.

The game itself was a tense, tactical affair. Two of the division’s best sides had been in fine form all season, and neither was about to gift the other anything. Chances were at a premium, the midfield battle intense, every tackle contested as if lives depended on it.

Will Houghton broke the deadlock on 42 minutes. A placed shot from close range, clinical and composed, the kind of finish that has become his trademark. Sheepy Road erupted. Half-time arrived with Atherstone in front, forty-five minutes from a result that would blow the title race wide open.

Long Eaton, to their credit, refused to panic. They probed, they pressed, they waited for their moment. It arrived on 67 minutes. Chris Cowley, who had been outstanding all afternoon, made a rare mistake. Sam Hards pounced, seizing on the error to score a close-range finish into the bottom right corner. 1-1. The away contingent celebrated wildly.

Neither side could find a winner in the final twenty-three minutes. The draw, ultimately, suited Long Eaton more than Atherstone. They remained a point clear at the top with games running out.

But the report that followed the match told its own story. Atherstone Town, it noted, had been playing far beyond expectations all season. They were on course for their highest-ever league finish, eclipsing the third-place finish they’d achieved in the Southern League First Division. They had won three of their last five home games in the league. This was not a side about to capitulate.

The Houghton Question

As the season entered its final weeks, one name kept appearing in conversations about Atherstone’s success: Will Houghton.

The striker had been nothing short of sensational. Seventeen goals from thirty-five appearances. Eleven of those coming in the league, with two assists to accompany them. Four Player of the Match awards. An average rating of 7.03, with a maximum of 9.60 in one particularly devastating display. The numbers painted the picture of a forward operating at the peak of his powers.

Dig deeper into the statistics and the picture becomes even more impressive. Sixty-one percent of his shots found the target. Forty-seven key passes across the season. A pass completion rate of ninety-one percent from seven hundred and eighty-three completed passes. His expected goals stood at 12.17, meaning he was significantly outperforming the chances he’d been presented with. Houghton wasn’t just finishing opportunities—he was creating something from nothing.

His crossing statistics, in particular, stood out. The data analysts noted that his crossing numbers were huge outliers compared to other attackers in the division. He was performing much better than average in general performance metrics and creativity for attackers. His shooting and goal output statistics, while closer to the division average, still marked him as a player worth watching.

Other clubs had noticed. Needham Market, competing in the Southern League Premier Division Central—a level above Atherstone’s current standing—made an approach. They wanted Houghton, and they were prepared to make it worth his while.

Howarth moved quickly. Losing Auton had been painful enough; losing Houghton in the middle of a title race would have been catastrophic. A new deal was agreed, tying the striker to Sheepy Road until the end of the season. The hope—the expectation—was that an extension would follow in the summer, particularly if promotion was achieved.

For now, Houghton was staying. And with seven games remaining, Atherstone needed every goal he could muster.

Where Things Stand

Thirty-five games played. Sixty-three points. Second place.

The mathematics were simple. Long Eaton United led on sixty-four points with the same number of games played. One point separated the top two. Grantham Town sat third on sixty-one, still mathematically in the race but needing results to go their way. Corby Town in fourth on sixty points were not yet out of it either.

Atherstone’s record read: eighteen wins, nine draws, eight defeats. Sixty-two goals scored—the most in the division. Forty-eight conceded—more than Howarth would have liked, but a consequence of the attacking philosophy that had brought them this far. A goal difference of plus fourteen.

Below the top four, the picture was equally fascinating. Nuneaton Town had recovered somewhat from their mid-season slump, sitting fifth on fifty-seven points. RC Warwick and Bedworth United were level on fifty-seven as well. The chasing pack remained bunched, but ultimately irrelevant to the title conversation.

The Adders were within touching distance of something extraordinary. All they had to do was reach out and grab it.