In defence of Brewdog, and it’s Palace of Waterloo (it’s biggest yet), beers in London Bridge later were seven quid a pop too. God, I’ve missed London. Reassuringly expensive, as Stella Artois used to claim. And if you drink enough, you can forget all about the latest Reds’ effort….running the show against Chorlton (23 shots to 8) and somehow succumbing 0-2. But if you can’t shoot…of these 23 efforts we had TWO on target. 2 out of 23. That’s less than 1 in 10, less than 10%. These are professional footballers. Not only are they the cream of the crop, they also get to practice 5 days a week. Talent, practice…and a woeful inability to kick a ball at a target 24ft x 8ft, or approximately the size of a barn door.
Mind, I don’t remember too many out and out chances. The one I DO remember, which still annoys the hell out of me, was Cadden hitting the bar with a free header just before half-time. He must have had a clear view of the ball for 30 yards, yet still couldn’t head it on target from about 6 yards. Benson hit the bar too, from outside the box. The rest of our efforts appeared to be players lacking sense and skill, leaning backwards attempting 20 yard half volleys. No-one in particular either, I think they all took a turn finding the crowd. Oh, I nearly forgot. One sweet one touch move ended with a side-footed effort into the bottom corner of….Cole. Possibly the only time he had the ball in their box, given his propensity to be invisible. Cheers, Devante.
Otherwise, we played some super stuff, pass and moves leaving Chorlton stranded as we continually found space out wide for balls to be pulled back…to their centre halves. Time and time again. Given the practice we must have put in for the original move, it seems a little remiss that Cole, or Norwood, or anyone else purporting to be a forward, can’t run into the pre-ordained space to slot it home. That’s what Man City do. Our forwards? Too busy hiding behind defenders, or standing in areas the ball will never reach. Just MAKE A F***ING RUN to the near post, will you!? We have carved them open AGAIN and yet we have NO-ONE in space. Or, if they are in space, it’s somewhere the other side of the box. Never did we look like scoring.
I think they scored with their first attack. Mads backed off and their player got his head down and drove it in at Collins’ near post. In Mads’ defence, I think he was trying to cover the pass (they were 3 on 2), while Collins was expecting the usual shot to the far post. But my main thought was ‘why doesn’t Cole do that? Why doesn’t Cole just run at the defender and get a shot off?. Cos it looks easy to me…if you’ve got pace, and can control a ball, while running. Oh.’ Their second, on the hour, we seemed to switch off. Their forward turned, shot, and we stood still as it hit the post…and ran across goal for a tap-in. OK, they got lucky, it dropped nice….while every bobble in their box went to their centre halves….but we can’t keep blaming bad luck. We have forwards who have no idea what anticipation is. Thus, all our lovely work outside the box goes to waste.
Onwards and upwards!
Top 3: Honestly, I couldn’t choose any. Not cos we were rubbish, just that so many were involved in our intricate passing moves. But I can’t give it to the defence…nothing to do and conceded two (I’m a poet and I don’t know it) while the forwards had plenty of ball in their box to feast on, and feast on they didn’t. Which probably leaves Kane (who got hauled on 64), Connell (who I didn’t think reached the heights of late) and Phillips (who someone had a right rant at me about how s*** he is….but I can’t remember who was doing the ranting….Loko? Anyway, suffice to say, I still haven’t seen our 2nd top scorer score.) We are still in a good place positionally, comfortably ensconced in the play-offs, but it’ll not last forever. Not at this rate: 3 games played in 2023, 3 defeats, zero goals, 8 conceded.
Londontykes’ MOTM: 1. Kitching 2. Jordan Williams 3. Kane
Despatches:
It was good to see Lord S, back from the almost dead, joining us pre-match. Hopefully, he’ll be back at the match soon. Pompey Ian graced us with his presence too, as Havant and Waterlooville’s game at Farnborough was called off. Stu was up from Witney, while all the usual faces were there. Shout out to A. Reed and his hotel, comfy bed, free beers and a literal punk alarm call. It’s never too early to hear the Slaughtered Dogs, or whatever band I’ve never heard of. Dunno what time we got to bed, but I know I crawled out of Andy’s at 9am to get home at….5pm. Trains are not stopping in Durham (or Darlo) for 3 months at weekends, so I had to go to Newcastle, get a rail replacement bus to Durham…then bus to Ferryhill. ‘Up to one every 20 minutes’ the bus proclaims. Yeah – during the week. Sunday, it’s one an hour. And the next one is 55 minutes time. Welcome to the countryside.
Drink du jour: Hazy Jane, Lost in Guava, Leffe, Beavertown Neck Oil
Away: Just over 1,000.
Today’s take home: If you can’t shoot, you can’t score.
The Damage:
£63 travel
£23 ent
£3.50 programme
= £89.50
The Tunes:
London. People. Cars. Police sirens. The screeching of trains. Passenger service announcements. Moaning Barnsley fans. The hum of a busy pub.
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