Barnsley 1-0 Watford, Saturday 16th March 2013

‘Donovan?  A Doner VAN would be more useful.’

Oh Bobby Hassell, you are the love of my life…GET IN THERE MY SON.  Another week, another seat on the bench for Sir Bob.  But what’s this?  Long Throw Rory (Rory ra ra ra) gets himself injured early on and the Ginger Prince finds himself on the park at right back. And things go from good to great when he only goes and bags the only goal of the game, a free header from a free kick.  F***ING YES!!!  Aside from that, Bob didn’t have the best of games, getting booked for being slower than he thinks he is and kicking some bloke in the air after being sold (well) short.  Much improved though after the break, as he and Wiseman swapped and Hassell proved…sorry SHOWED, cos Hassell simply can’t PROVE owt to this manager…that he looks comfortable in the middle of defence and can play with anyone (today:  Crainie).

Anyway, we were the better team throughout.  Watford may be 2^nd (they didn’t look it) but we bossed it.  It was yet another example of a 2^nd division team being unable to pass it around when we pressed them.  These are not Man City (or Swansea, when they battered us last year).  Perkins won plenty of ball, but I lost count of how many times they’d try to cut inside Etuhu and he’d just nick it off them.  Do they never learn?  (No.)  Unfortunately, we weren’t quite as good IN possession as we were out of it, though we created what chances there were.

*** Crainie.  Won absolutely everything, stepped forward to intercept balls, laid balls off to team mates.  A supreme performance at centre half.

** Etuhu.  As above.  Sponsor’s MOTM.

* O’Grady.  Held the ball, put himself about, took alot of physical from Watford, coulda scored.  Shoulda scored?

Despatches:
Here’s a question.  How much would you take to sell Mellis?  This came up on the train. The answers were a) 5 million, b) 3 million, c) 2 million or d) £250,000?  To my mind, a bloke who’s in and out of Barnsley’s team can’t be worth more than a quarter of a mill, but based on a decent half at Man C (after they’d won the game) and a decent game out wide yesterday (cos he ain’t good enough to be in the middle) he’s worth millions.  In the words of Dave Selwood ‘Tha knows nowt.’  We weren’t even drunk (well, I wasn’t.)

Good job we DID bloody win tho.  By my reckoning, the bottom 11 teams recorded 8 wins and a draw.  And one of the 2 defeats was against another of the bottom 11 (Bristol at Wolves).  Still, for those doom mongers who feared the worst when we had the top 7 to play of our last 11 games…well, we’ve now beaten 2 of them.  It’s playing sh*te at the bottom (like Washday) who'll cause us problems.

Drink du jour:  No messing about today, none of your running out of spirits by Peterboro…a bottle of JD and a bottle of vodka pls, between about 5 of us.  Dave stuck to some weak bitter, fearful of the consequences.  Not that I drank much.  I just wasn’t feeling on form all day (heavy night).

Great atmosphere at Oakwell too.  Don't worry...'bout a thing!

Manchester City 5-0 Barnsley, Saturday 9th March 2013

Manchester City 5-0 Barnsley, FA Cup 5th Round, att. 46,728

Welcome to ....

Appalling.  Gutless.  Spineless.  Those are 3 adjectives I’d have (un)happily used yesterday, having seen us out of the game in 10 mins and Man City out of sight after half an hour.  But I’ve calmed down a bit since, which will make for a much more boring match report, I’m sure.  Besides, what do we have to complain about?  The Super Reds only delivered what we expected – getting a proper ar5e kicking from a side containing the odd world class individual (Carlos Tevez hattrick anyone?), nevermind Premiership class.  But I guess when you’ve spent a £100 (£70 on a train journey – cheers Virgin) before you’ve even kicked off, you rather hope your team will hold out for a bit longer than 10 minutes.  And we coulda been a couple down before City DID score.

A (former) Londontyke looks especially pleased with his new purchase.

And so it was that our eagerly awaited quarter final became 90 minutes of depression with Reds fans going down like their team, without a fight.  The atmosphere in the away end was like a home game at times.  As Loko said, at least Dirty Leeds went down singing and chanting.  We whimpered our way to defeat.

Pre or post match? - you decide.

Alcohol’s a funny thing tho, innit?  I’m pleased I watched the highlights today, cos I had no memory of us having a shot on target.  Turns out we had 3.  And one of them was even part of a slick one-touch move involving Mellis, probably the only Reds player who didn’t look totally out of place on the Etihad pitch.  Shame we woz already 3-0 down by the time he appeared.   I also have no recollection of getting off the train at Euston, but Sarah reckons I ‘disappointed a little Andy who was hoping to go for another beer.’  Does he never learn???

The teams line up.

And so this week’s MOTM award shall go, in order of best pub to:

***  Euston Tap.  You know them big stone things outside Euston, with the names of places the train goes to inscribed onto their walls? (no?  Oh well.)   Turns out they’ve been turned into tiny tiny pubs with hand-crafted beer or somesuch.  Fabulous choice of beer (sorry Tim, no Fosters) and a spiral staircase.  I have a new favourite pub!

**  The 2^nd pub we went in at Manchester.  Good choice of beer and busy but not packed. Shame about ‘no football colours’.  What colours are NOT  football colours?  Puice? Turqoise?

*  The 1^st pub in Manchester.  After the debacle of changing pubs cos of ‘liveliness’ at our original choice, it was a relief to actually get a beer.

In real terms:
*** No-one.  How can anyone get a MOTM award chasing shadows?
** Mellis.  At least had the confidence to pass and move when he had the ball.
* Perkins.  Chased shadows as well as anybody!

Lambs about to be slaughtered.

On the plus side, Sarah bought some nice wool (£24 for 3 balls – Christ!) from the shop across the road from the pub, so it wasn’t like the day was a total waste.  And she was very pleased to see Yaya.  'There's only one Yaya!'  Personally, I was very pleased to see Bob and Craig.  Just a shame Bob wasn't coming back with us, cos our meeting was all too brief!

Misc:
Stephen Foster.  The fastest he moved all day was in grabbing a City player to swap shirts with at the end.  Pathetic.

The away contingent.

Dear Mr Rowing, (BFC club secretary)

as a letter to the Chron a couple of weeks ago said…..if you let big groups of friends buy tickets together for these type of games, it might enhance the atmosphere.  Instead, there were 3 Londontykes here, 4 there, a couple over there…etc  I mainly had an increasingly angry Loko trying to pick arguments with folk in front or behind.  I sat there, resigned.

Oh, and I hope Slacki managed to avoid knowing the score and had to sit at home watching the whole dreadful fiasco.  I wish I’d had a ‘fast forward’ button yesterday.

Bottom of the table and out of the cup.  I feel a bit of D:ream coming on...

The home end (the Bell End?)

Admiring the sweep of the stands

The tunnel side

Au revoir, City.  Who knows when we'll meet again?

Welcome to...(II)

Barnsley 2-3 Bolton Wanderers, Saturday 2nd March 2013

'I like my pubs like I like my women - ROUGH!'

The pre-match meet 'n' greet.

Morning all.  At half past one of a Sunday morn, amazingly awake rather than fallen asleep on the bus/in front of MOTD/The Football League Show (waiting for Barnsley) I am here. Alive.  Raring to go.  Now.  Well, cup of coffee and bowl of porridge on table, Boards of Canada in background (Geogaddi).  Slacki/Salisbury - they're a bit like Foo Fighters, but not s***.

Well, I'm a tad busy.  Walking/staggering home (for 2 weeks in a row I've made the mistake of having an extra couple of beers with Andy once the train reached civilisation) I realised that, actually, for once, my Sunday consists of beyond watching the MOTD I fell asleep during (yet recorded), the Football League Show I missed (yet recorded) and the washing up while listening to Cerys on 6 Music (after watching recordings of the previous).  Turns out it's Jake's 1st birthday party and I'm spending Sunday as I've done the day before - on the lash.  Does (did) anyone else spend their son/daughter's 1st birthday hiring a pub for their friends to drink beer?  Or just my mate Harriet? (Some of you will know her.  Molly - I believe you once arm-wrestled her on what was the Firkin pub on Euston Road).  Anyway, anyone wanting to drink beer and feel all 'God's country' is invited to the Yorkshire Grey (WC1) tomorrow, from 1pm, to imbibe.

The Trotters.

The match?

Christ.  It was like Keith Hill all over again, but without the passing (!!).  At least in the old days we could go side - side - backwards - hoof forward from Steele.  Today, 1st half, we couldn't even do THAT.  The 1st half was appalling.  It took us 4 minutes and 50 seconds to control a ball in their half.  Yes, I know, cos I looked at the scoreboard.  Some good news tho - it was still nil-nil.  Not for long.  Our (latest) hapless centre back partnership failed again and gave Ngog a tap-in.  So Steele spitefully saved it, but thankfully it went straight back to Ngog to side foot home.  Not a defender in sight - as I like it.

We blundered around for 20 minutes or whatever (who cares) and then a weak clearance brought a 20 yarder from the edge of the box into the bottom corner.  Round of applause that man.  Least, me and a few east upper bods gave him a round of applause, cos a) it was a good finish and b) at this stage of proceedings, it looked like that was as good as it was gonna get - them scoring a decent goal.

We trudge off at HT dispirited, depressed and outclassed.  Naturally, the manager made no changes to personnel and the team came out TRANSFORMED.  Within 8 minutes we were level.  The Polish bloke scores a soft 20 yarder (I'm sure Bogdan didn't see it till late cos of the number of players in the box) and then the keeper drops one for O'Grady to tap in.  For 5 minutes I get to feel like a medieval soothsayer, having told the 10 year old I'm babysitting for (true) at half time 'don't worry, we're kicking towards the home end this half, we're bound to score 3.'  I believe sarcasm should be taught early.  The crowd's rapturous response is soon killed when Bolton grab what proves to be the winner.  Steele drops a free kick straight into AN Other Wanderer and it's 2-3.  Was it a foul in the 1st place (dunno), did Bolton nick a few yards when taking it (yes) do I feel sympathy for Steele, what with a left footer and a right footer waiting to take the free kick (obviously).  Most Reds fans tho will blame Steele despite his saving of 2 one-on-ones and general all-round safe hands.  Boooo, rubbish, Steele!

And then we spend 20/30 minutes dinking cute little crosses in for bigger defenders than we have forwards to head away.  Yes, that's YOU, Polish bloke and Kennedy.  Anyone else not there - check out the corner count.  I don't know how many we chipped in for big blokes to head and/or Bogdan to catch.  Embarrassing.  And before everyone blames O'Brien/Kennedy:  we have no-one on the keeper, and we're aiming at midgets. TAKE A F***ING SHORT ONE.  It'll be the closest we come to being Barcelona, that's for sure.  Hilariously, despite winning every header all day, Bolton bring on ex-Boro GIANT David Wheater to 'bolster' their defence late on.  Christ on a bike.

The Happy Wanderers.

Despatches:
The Bobby Hassell 'situation' is starting to nark me now.  I can handle it when the manager (and previous) who know far more than I ever will, that Bobby is not the answer.  But when the unconscious Etuhu comes back and plays like he still is, while McNulty is dropped to give Wiseman a run out, while Kennedy pretends he's a left back, while we have no defensive midfield cover.....if you can tell me that Bobby Hassell's sole existence is to be 15th choice (any position), well.....if I was him, I'd turn to God too.  I don't normally make it my business to feel sorry for 'believers' (that's their job on me, right?) but in this case I have to make an exception.  I would rather see my money wasted on seeing Bobby struggle (but die trying, dammit) than any of this lot.

Etuhu - see above.  F***ing dreadful.  Did a job filling in for Dawson in MIDFIELD but can't defend, nor run up a wing with the ball.  But brings way more to the Barnsley team than Sir Bobby of Hassell ever will.  Ever.  (Head in hands.)

Crainie/Wiseman - please don't play these 2 at the same time.  They look so alike I can't decide who to blame.  Lets play safe and say WISEMAN - YOU'RE F***ING S***.  Things must be bad, cos there I was at HT, having a p*** (I was in the toilet, I'm not an animal) and some guy goes 'what the f*** is Wiseman doing centre half.  He can't play centre half.  He might be a right back, he's not a centre half.'  Well, mister (I had my hands full, so I couldn't talk), from memory, he's not a right back either.  But one thing I DO know - he's better than Bobby Hassell (cos Keith and David have told me so).

O'Grady:  PURRLEASE.  There's a reason why he can't get a game for Sheffield Wednesday.  You'll have to work this one out for yourselves.  (Clue: it does not involve Washday having amazing centre forwards)

To business:
*** Perkins.  Ran around, looked busy, looked like he WANTED it.  Never actually did anything WITH it.  Sponsors MOTM.
** Polish bloke.  Scored, good movement, then spent last half hour perfecting the art of 'dink.'
* Steele.  Made 2 or 3 great saves yet will be remembered for the winner.  Balls.

Further despatches:
I guess Flitcroft has a master plan, dropping Harewood and Scotland for the Washday One, but really, it's one or the other to partner Dagnall.  If this really is a master plan, and we turn over Burnley on Tues, and Man C next week, I am truly an idiot (you can copy and paste this sentence FOREVER).  Having seen today, Manchester City must be quaking in their boots.*

*sarcasm.

ps, not entirely 'must know' but the drink du jour was Finlandia and Tropicana (orange) and journey home was enlivened (sort of) by a Celtic fan sticking his nut on some Dirty Leeds oik.  A small posse of white sh*te had been baiting this bloke (mainly a woman, the size of a bungalow, who would NOT shut the f*** up).  Sadly, I had my back to the 'action' tho I was amused to hear even Bungalow Lil tell him to 'sid down'.  Altho he was a young lad, and a bit of a chubster, my spies (Reed, Salisbury - ex-KGB) tell me the Scottish bloke was a brick outhouse and would've killed said oik.