The last laugh.

14 March 2026: Shrewsbury Town 0, Cheltenham Town 2.

Shrewsbury: Cox; Stubbs; Boyle; Anderson (Benning 60’); Berkoe [Y]; Kabia; Morgan (Scully 77’); Perry [Y] (Freeman 77’); Sang; McDermott (Lloyd 64’); Ogunsuyi.

Unused substitutes: Brook; Gray; Lee.

Cheltenham: Day [Y]; Tomkinson; Wilson; Cundy [Y]; Sherring; Stevenson (Ashfield 77’); Bickerstaff (Broom 84’); Hutchinson (Deeming 84’); Thomas (Jude-Boyd 80’); Davison (Miller 83’).

Unused substitutes: Diallo; Nurse.

Scorers: Thomas (63’); Sherring (71’).

Match officials: Referee – Mr L Sandoe; Assistants – Mr J Topp & Mr M Jones; Fourth – Mr S Oldham.

Attendance: 5,876.

The daffodils are out so we are getting to that time of the year when the rest of the football season consists of single figures. The time when the minds of professional footballers turn to the beach – at least in the minds of disgruntled fans analysing a highly disappointing defeat. The point when everyone tries to get excited about the dead rubber of league matches of little consequence.

In the minds of a footballing nation, Shrewsbury versus Cheltenham would appear to have about as much interest as which town came third in the ‘Britain in Bloom’ competition. However, the football nation is unaware of what Bertie Wooster would call the “wheels within wheels.” This league fixture had more at stake than a mere three points, bragging rights or which club could claim the unofficial championship of the Welsh Marches (a contest only open to places which are the epitome of a football cold-bed). This was a battle for the hearts and minds of everyone of a blue and amber persuasion. It was Roland versus Steve.

A quick recap for the unfamiliar. Roland and Steve were once good mates, so much so that when Steve was out of work Roland offered him a job: a match made in Shropshire. When Steve fell seriously ill and could not work, Roland went out of his way to support his new employee through his time away sick. In return Steve pushed himself to the limits to bring Roland success. Everything appeared rosy, but behind the scenes their personal relationship had fractured to such an extent that Roland felt that employing Steve was the biggest mistake he had ever made. This situation could not last, and eventually Steve left with still time left on his contract in an atmosphere of barely concealed acrimony.

When two proud men fall out it leads to only one thing – fallout. When Salop visited Cheltenham on Boxing Day, Steve Cotterill ramped up the contest with a prematch interview that painted himself as the injured party, cruelly and unjustly forced out despite all the success and transfer receipts he brought to Salop. The Cheltenham manager is too canny a communicator not to win the war of words easily, and to make a discomforting situation even more unbearable, eased to a similarly comprehensive victory on the pitch.

It is fair to say that the return fixture at the Meadow was for that most precious of prizes: the last laugh. Such are the vagaries of football that since Boxing Day the fortunes of the two clubs had gone is opposite directions in the form table. For all their dominance of that distinctly un-festive occasion Cheltenham had won only two more matches since. By contrast Salop had bounced above the Robins in the League Two title, having won seven matches – the last six under the new head coach Gavin Cowan. So, this was a match between a club on a winning streak and one that was enjoying a more modest run of draws. No prizes for guessing who the bookies were favouring.

Cowan made one change to the lineup that won at Chesterfield, starting Taylor Perry (one of three former Cheltenham players in his match day squad). It was clear from the offset that the lack of pace in a back three of Tom Anderson, Will Boyle and Sam Stubbs needed to be protected and the game plan was safety first – keeping things tight even if that meant ceding a good deal of the possession to the visitors. In the opening minutes, both teams made attacking moves, for Salop a gilt-edged chance fell to Tommy MacDermott but his scoring effort did not find the target.

After that first burst of excitement both sides engaged in military manoeuvres, warily scouting the opposition but not engaging in even the most minor skirmish. To be honest the rest of the match was uninterrupted tedium, as shown by my notes consisting of jottings about occurrences that fit neatly into a list of the things about football that I find highly depressing:

- MacDermott had clearly been targeted for rough treatment, presumably in the hope that he would be provoked into some hot-headed retaliation that would get him sent off.

- How infuriating is a self-important referee that theatrically points to the precise position he wants a throw in taken from and then is oblivious to the fact that when the throw is eventually taken it is in the neighbouring county.

- There must be some way of stopping de facto time outs started by goalkeepers suddenly needing attention of the physio. Teams seem happy to collude in this charade, which makes me wonder were any advantage comes from as the opposition are simultaneously having their own pep talk.

As the break approached, the Meadow was in sullen silence, with only barked instructions from the technical area piercing the air. A scoreless first half suited both sides, even if it was not that entertaining for the paying spectator. This was going to be a match decided on which team managed to capitalise on an isolated piece of quality or an unforced error from the opposition. When the goal it was nearer the latter. A long punt up field from the goalkeeper, a headed knockdown to the feet of Jordan Thomas who fired a shot through a gaggle of Town defenders and into the net. Less than ten minutes later, from a corner kick an unchallenged Sam Sherring netted to take the match well out of a lacklustre Salop’s grasp.

The home side had been guilty of their most uninspiring performance under the new head coach. The opposition gave them no space and prevented them from generating any momentum. The Cheltenham back line dominated in the air and continually killed any Salop attempts to forge opportunities in their halve. A bit of a learning experience for Major Cowan against a manager that has made a successful career out of winning terrible games of football.

Come the final whistle, Cotterill was quickly out of his technical area and, as he had done in the reverse fixture, circled the pitch applauding the Salop supporters. He must believe that every Salop fan is still in awe of him; in homes across Shropshire there is on the mantle piece or bookshelf there is a golden statuette of a figure in training gear with the letters SC emblazoned on them. The next time the doorbell rings unexpectedly it will not be someone offering to clean your block paving, prune your cherry tree or fix a slipped roof slate they have just noticed when passing. No, it will be Steve standing on the doorstep, inviting himself into your living room for a cup of tea and a slice of cake to reminisce about good times past.

His lap of honour complete, Cotterill returned to a dressing room that echoed to a hearty last laugh. That Cheltenham had eased themselves above Salop in the League Two table on goal difference making the moment that bit sweeter. Pause here though. With only the last few games of the season to go there is hardly a fag paper separating Cheltenham and Shrewsbury. Two clubs that would have been fearing the worst about their league status earlier in the season, now reasonably safe and looking towards the next campaign. Cotterill might have outwitted Cowan on this occasion, but Salop supporters see the first as the past and the second as the future. One senses that the next time the two teams meet there will only be the unofficial championship of the Welsh Marches up for grabs.