When talking to other AFC Wimbledon fans one thing I’ve noticed is that it’s hard to nail down who our big rivalries are with.

If you’re new to the club and the supporter community and you try to do some research and due diligence to find out, you mostly read about that team in Buckinghamshire who we do not name.

Calling them a rival lends them a sense of legitimacy that they do not deserve.

Older fans will talk about Wimbledon FC’s rivals. They’ll wax poetically about tense clashes with Crystal Palace and Chelsea. But we have yet to meet either of them in a competitive match.

We’re new, and we’re new to the League, so it’s going to take time for rivalries to grow organically. But this past weekend saw another meeting with a nascent rival.

I woke up early on Saturday morning to listen to the Wimbledon match (yes, woke up early. Your 3pm is my 9am. And I am NOT a morning person). 

In the run-up to the game the part of Womble Twitter that I follow were all sharing the same sentiment.

“Ugh. Not THIS lot again.”

Yes, this lot again. Mansfield Town. Away.

The conversation centered on how dreadful it is to play away at Mansfield Town.

The drive is long. The home crowd is hostile. The players need frequent reminding that this is football and not rugby. Diving. Unsporting hits when the referee isn’t looking. “Professional fouls.”

This was the line of talk before and during the game. Even the Radio WDON guys weren’t immune.

And by the end, there was more a sense of relief than anything else. Forget the score— we just wanted to leave.

“Nobody likes you, Mansfield Town.”

This is good. This is how rivalries start. This is how a club is built. One brick, one disputed call, one testy Twitter exchange at a time.

Embrace the hate.

Surrey Comet:

Surrey Comet:

Surrey Comet: