Barnsley 1-2 Scunthorpe United, Saturday 29th November 2014

‘Can you please call home?  Your wife’s had her back doors smashed in.’

The view from The Ponty

This week’s match report shall be brought to you thanks to the sponsorship of Mr ???, member of our East London Parish and proud bearer of a recent wedding ring. Congratulations, Rhys, and thanks very much for paying for the two essential elements of the ‘Booze Express’.

Anyway, it was great to see Rhys finally make a game, along with Marius, over from Norway and it was great to see the Super Reds show what they’ve been missing: f*** all.  We were appalling from start to finish.  Or at least from the 20^th minute, cos I missed that much trying to get in. Crowd congestion?  No.  The rigmarole of getting a replacement ticket for not having my ST with me.  (My dad has our season tickets and he was unable to make it today cos of the north east being in lock down due to some explosion near the A1 at Catterick.)

The old Main Stand

So obviously I made sure I got to the ground early to sort this out.  Or 2:45pm as its known and within about 5 minutes I was served.  OK so far. Only the lady serving me (and I got the impression she was a recent recruit) couldn’t find my ‘client registration’ details or whatever stupid title they give us ‘supporters’ these days.  I provided as many details as I possibly could (dad’s address, my address, etc) and 5 mins of holding up everyone else in the queue later, plus help from Sharon (the boss) she’d found me.  Crack on. A replacement ticket printed, off I go.

I get to the Pukka Pies East Stand Lower turnstile, handily located halfway round the stadium, past 2 sets of Pukka Pies East Stand Upper turnstiles (why?).  It’s now 5 past 3 and of the two open ‘stiles, one is shutting. The one I go in, the lady scans my ticket but no, it’s not registering.  ‘And I’ve been told by my boss today not to let ANYONE in if it doesn’t register’.  OK, I’m now officially irritated, but hey!  I’ve only travelled up from London and I know the match will be the sh*ttest part of my day.  (Almost prescient, eh, given later proceedings.)

I go back to the ticket office.  But no, it’s shut. No worries, I trot to the main club office and a nice lady there gives me a replacement replacement ticket.  I stroll back to my turnstile (I know I’m not missing much) and GUESS WHAT? Same again.  My conversation is somewhat abrupt and I stomp back to the ticket office.  This time I tell the woman it’s no use giving me a replacement ticket, just get me in the stadium.  Sharon, who by now has (rightfully) kicked off her heels and was looking forward to a sit down after the pre-match madness, comes to my rescue (not for the first time; witness the time I forgot my Chelsea match ticket).  She puts on her shoes, comes out and marches me through one of the main gates.  So whatever the crowd was, add one, cos I’m not included.  And since I came through the ‘disabled corner’ I decide I’ll go and sit in the Ponty End for a change.  I find a spare chair high up right behind the goal. 

The Pukka Pies East Stand

Within a minute I see 3 strange refereeing decisions which ALL go against Barnsley.  Shoulder to shoulder is a free kick to them, while a push by them is unpunished, before Berry is booked for tackling somebody.  (Ok, he scissored him a bit.)  Still, at least summat had happened, cos the guy next to me said the only thing of note in the 1^st 20 mins was Winnall getting injured under no challenge whatsoever. Shame, I was looking forward to seeing if he could hold a ball up today.

Then it happens. GOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLL!  The ball is pulled back to Trotta who rifles it home with his left, high into the net.  Seeing it on telly, I realise my view behind t’nets is not all that when the ball’s at the far end.  I thought he was maybe 12 yards out.  Turns out it was 6.  Within a minute, Scunny equalise.  That poor excuse for a defender Nyatanga is turned with ease and the resultant shot, although well saved by Turnbull, is knocked into an empty net by Madden.  Proper poacher’s goal, while we stand around watching.  As usual.

In injury time (can I blame Winnall?) Scunny go ahead, as Madden runs at Bailey and Ramage, who for 15 yards resolutely refuses to put a tackle in, allowing Madden to meander forward before striking low to the far corner.  Maddening.  (Pun intended.)  We are losing at home to a side 2^nd off bottom who’ve drawn 2 and lost 9 of their previous 11 visits to Oakwell.  Why am I not surprised?

704 away supporters. Good effort Scunny!

2^nd half, we have the ‘lion’s share of the possession’ yet at no point do we look like we WANT IT.  Passes go sideways, sideways, back and if anything, it looks like we must be winning, as we attempt to wind down the clock.  Scunny look best placed to score, on the break, but they’re a poor side too.  We still fashion chances though. Devante Cole brings the ball down superbly, then blazes it over the bar from 8 yards.  Berry misses a header at the far post a minute after being named MOTM (‘he does nothing everywhere’ – Rhys) and Hemmings dinks a soft header into the keeper’s arms. So even in a game where we create nowt, we had chances.  Go figure.

*** No-one. Appalling.  OK, harsh, cos I can problies count 3 or 4 players who had a decent game, so….TURNBULL.  Caught everything, distribution excellent, no chance with either goal.

** Dudgeon.  When your full back and goalkeeper are the only players giving any hint of ‘impetus’ or energy, you know something’s not going right.

* Crainie. Probably beat more players than anyone else in a red shirt.  See above re: ‘you know something’s not going right....’

Sponsors’ MOTM: Berry.  ‘He does nothing everywhere.’  I like that one.

Despatches:
Hourihane proved he’s Premiership class by blaming other players when his passes went astray; Nyatanga and Ramage looked useless; Cole is the new Bambi on ice; Trotta looked a good prospect, good control – though completely missed one ball, when he ran across a defender to meet a mishit Hourihane corner; And the player who came out with the most credit for me was the injured Williams; without him we looked truly s*** going forward.

Drink du jour: with a larger than usual contingent, we had champagne on the way up (Congrats again, Rhys) and a choice of JD and coke or vodka and orange on the way back.  Then the day was made complete by a trip up to Camden Town for Heavy Metal Heaven at the Dublin Castle.  (Sample quote: ‘ARE YOU GUYS READY TO GO MENTAL FOR SOME METAL!!!????’ (No.)  And if I learnt anything from yesterday, it’s that you need to have your passport to get into any bar on the Camden strip.  What’s the world coming to?

Oh dear...