‘Normal service has resumed’
Satdy matchday, missed trains, smashed vodka bottle, sleeping in on bus, lost game. My shortest match report yet!
One of our oldies but goldies, P’boro away, was back. Hampshire Tykes were out in force (if you can include Phil arriving later; an early bus journey was held up, the driver not being too happy about being called a c*** by a passenger.) Even Tim had turned out, complete with 17 year old female. Our worries re: Lucy were assuaged though: he was only pimping for his son, Jack, who this young lady apparently likes. Odd, she seemed much more intelligent than that.
Loving a bit of tradition, we made our usual journey to the Cherry Tree – only we got waylaid and never made it. Pompey needed the toilet and ‘ooh look! There’s a pub on a barge!’ Even better, it was full of real ales and Krombacher Weizen. I seem to remember a 5.9% pale ale (Jaipur?) which everyone had afterwards as well to dull the pain.
Of course, the terrace is no more. In its place has gone up another run of the mill breeze block and meccano construction which will presumably open quite soon. In the meantime, we were allotted a chunk of the old stand to the old terrace’s right. Decent turnout too and plenty of noise, at least till it all went wrong sometime in the second half.
We scored early on. Hourihane played it out wide where Bree had all the time in the world to whip in a cross which Cole spectacularly volleyed into the net. Then we sat back – for 75 minutes. The midfield was overrun, the forwards never saw the ball and for a manager who got us promotion with an exciting 3-5-2 wing back formation, we stuck rigidly to 4-4-2 with Nyatanga and Bree steadfastly refusing to push up in support.
Posh hit the post with a long shot but just as we were limping towards half time, Williams tippy-tapped the ball to them instead of clearing and BOSH, a low shot found the corner of Turnbull’s net. Of course, plenty of Reds fans were willing to have a go at Williams, the same Reds fans who a minute earlier were bemoaning our defence for booting it long. You can’t win. For what it’s worth, if we’re to get back to passing ways, it will need time, effort and practice. It won’t happen overnight.
The 2nd 45 was one-way traffic. While Turnbull had little to do, we couldn’t get out of our half. Ramage and Crainie marshalled the centre, while Bailey was having a great game in defensive-mid, up until the moment he got sent off. I could see why he was given the second yellow, though equally the ref could’ve settled for the free kick. I can’t remember the 1st booking.
By then we were 2-1 down, a 25 yard free kick finding the top corner. I don’t quite know how their player did it, he barely had a run up. Being ‘lucky’ enough to be right behind it, it was in all the way. So let’s give him his dues. We’d have gone bananas if it was us.
Giant poppy at Kings X |
One of our oldies but goldies, P’boro away, was back. Hampshire Tykes were out in force (if you can include Phil arriving later; an early bus journey was held up, the driver not being too happy about being called a c*** by a passenger.) Even Tim had turned out, complete with 17 year old female. Our worries re: Lucy were assuaged though: he was only pimping for his son, Jack, who this young lady apparently likes. Odd, she seemed much more intelligent than that.
Loving a bit of tradition, we made our usual journey to the Cherry Tree – only we got waylaid and never made it. Pompey needed the toilet and ‘ooh look! There’s a pub on a barge!’ Even better, it was full of real ales and Krombacher Weizen. I seem to remember a 5.9% pale ale (Jaipur?) which everyone had afterwards as well to dull the pain.
I'm swaying. It's like I'm on a boat or summink. |
Of course, the terrace is no more. In its place has gone up another run of the mill breeze block and meccano construction which will presumably open quite soon. In the meantime, we were allotted a chunk of the old stand to the old terrace’s right. Decent turnout too and plenty of noise, at least till it all went wrong sometime in the second half.
The Future. Dull dull dull. |
Posh hit the post with a long shot but just as we were limping towards half time, Williams tippy-tapped the ball to them instead of clearing and BOSH, a low shot found the corner of Turnbull’s net. Of course, plenty of Reds fans were willing to have a go at Williams, the same Reds fans who a minute earlier were bemoaning our defence for booting it long. You can’t win. For what it’s worth, if we’re to get back to passing ways, it will need time, effort and practice. It won’t happen overnight.
The 2nd 45 was one-way traffic. While Turnbull had little to do, we couldn’t get out of our half. Ramage and Crainie marshalled the centre, while Bailey was having a great game in defensive-mid, up until the moment he got sent off. I could see why he was given the second yellow, though equally the ref could’ve settled for the free kick. I can’t remember the 1st booking.
By then we were 2-1 down, a 25 yard free kick finding the top corner. I don’t quite know how their player did it, he barely had a run up. Being ‘lucky’ enough to be right behind it, it was in all the way. So let’s give him his dues. We’d have gone bananas if it was us.
Thereafter, it was damage limitation. Turnbull pulled off a couple of great saves and we managed one attack with 10 men, but, really, it was a forlorn hope against a good Peterborough side.
*** Ramage. Headers, tackles, interceptions. There’s a reason Turnbull had little to do.
** Captain Fantastic. It takes two, you know, to defend as well as we did in central defence.
* Bailey. Covered the defence well.
Despatches:
Williams was awful, Winnall was back to his usual worst (weak) while most of us weren’t too impressed with Danny’s lack of tactical nouse. Were we REALLY that scared of Peterborough? Bree lost it a few times in dangerous positions (but he's young enough to learn), while Cole looked as if he could do a job if he had any support. As for Hourihane, has he done anything since being voted Division 3 player of the month for September?
Afterwards, we found an Asda for the beer run. And while Andy et al went on ahead to the station, I made the mistake of staying behind for Phil, who apparently doesn’t know how to use one of them there self-service tills. Having been told off by the elderly assistant for swearing (Phil, not me), we finally got out of there. Time was against us, and so was the fence Phil couldn’t/wouldn’t climb over…so anyway, we missed the train and Andy had the vodka, and the sausage rolls, paid for by me. GRRRRRRR!
After afterwards, we all had beers in The Parcel Yard before Andy and I met our 1st ever Shrewsbury fan in Mabels, before I dragged Andy for beers in Bloomsbury with some genuine Scouse Liverpool fans. And then I fell asleep on the bus home – different bus, different random part of London to wake up in…West Norwood. But it got worse before it got better. As I walked along the street, what was left of the vodka (ie, most of it) jumped out of my open bag and crashed onto West Norwood high street. Brilliant.
Oh well – at least the bus came quite quickly. And it took my mind off the defeat for a few seconds.
If you pay enough, you can apparently have your own mascot...(sad) |
*** Ramage. Headers, tackles, interceptions. There’s a reason Turnbull had little to do.
** Captain Fantastic. It takes two, you know, to defend as well as we did in central defence.
* Bailey. Covered the defence well.
Despatches:
Williams was awful, Winnall was back to his usual worst (weak) while most of us weren’t too impressed with Danny’s lack of tactical nouse. Were we REALLY that scared of Peterborough? Bree lost it a few times in dangerous positions (but he's young enough to learn), while Cole looked as if he could do a job if he had any support. As for Hourihane, has he done anything since being voted Division 3 player of the month for September?
Afterwards, we found an Asda for the beer run. And while Andy et al went on ahead to the station, I made the mistake of staying behind for Phil, who apparently doesn’t know how to use one of them there self-service tills. Having been told off by the elderly assistant for swearing (Phil, not me), we finally got out of there. Time was against us, and so was the fence Phil couldn’t/wouldn’t climb over…so anyway, we missed the train and Andy had the vodka, and the sausage rolls, paid for by me. GRRRRRRR!
After afterwards, we all had beers in The Parcel Yard before Andy and I met our 1st ever Shrewsbury fan in Mabels, before I dragged Andy for beers in Bloomsbury with some genuine Scouse Liverpool fans. And then I fell asleep on the bus home – different bus, different random part of London to wake up in…West Norwood. But it got worse before it got better. As I walked along the street, what was left of the vodka (ie, most of it) jumped out of my open bag and crashed onto West Norwood high street. Brilliant.
Oh well – at least the bus came quite quickly. And it took my mind off the defeat for a few seconds.
The teams are paraded. |
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