Wrexham 1-5 Southampton

Well, that was absolutely disgusting. Disgusting in the way a triple bacon cheeseburger at 2am is disgusting — you know it’s excessive, you know it’s borderline obscene, but my God, you’re enjoying every single second of it.

Five. FIVE. Away from home. At the Racecourse Ground, where Wrexham’s Hollywood fairy tale is supposed to play out, and we turned up and wrote our own script. Someone call Ryan Reynolds, because that man just watched his side get torn apart by a Southampton team operating with the ruthless efficiency of a Swiss watch that’s been raised on Bovril and south coast sea air.

Kuryu Matsuki got us rolling after just twelve minutes, and honestly, that lad continues to be one of the signings of the season. There’s something almost unfair about how composed he is — he plays like he’s got a cheat code the rest of the Championship hasn’t figured out yet. Then Flynn Downes, OUR Flynn Downes, popped up on 22 minutes to make it two, and suddenly the travelling Saints fans behind the goal were making more noise than the entire Kop end. Downes has no right scoring goals like that from midfield, but who are we to complain?

Now, credit where it’s due — Wrexham didn’t roll over. Josh Windass pulled one back on 34 minutes and for about ten minutes the home crowd remembered they existed. The interesting thing is they actually had 54% possession across the whole match, which tells you everything about how we played today. We didn’t need the ball. We just needed it in the moments that mattered, and when we had it, we were absolutely clinical — nine shots on target from sixteen attempts is the kind of conversion rate that would make a statistician weep tears of joy.

The second half was where it got properly silly. Cyle Larin restored the three-goal cushion on 61 minutes with what felt like an inevitability goal — you could see it coming from the moment we kicked off after half time. Then the floodgates truly opened. Ross Stewart on 81, Finn Azaz just two minutes later on 83, and suddenly we’re into “stop, they’re already dead” territory. That late double had the feel of a team that had been holding back and finally decided to let the handbrake off completely.

The bookings were flying around too — Stephens, Welington, and Azaz all picking up yellows for us, which suggests the lads were feeling spicy even when five goals up. Azaz getting cautioned four minutes before scoring is peak Championship chaos and I’m entirely here for it.

Look, days like this don’t come around often enough. You bottle them. You screenshot the score and send it to that mate who supports Portsmouth. You rewatch the highlights three times before bed. We went to North Wales with 10,547 watching and put on an absolute masterclass in away day destruction.

If we keep playing like this through April, promotion isn’t a dream — it’s a date we’re simply confirming. Bring on the next one. We’re ravenous.