BFC 2-2 Bristol City, Friday 30th March 2018

‘Johnson, what’s the score?’

Welcome to ....

Well, that made a change.  Played well, scored a couple.  Didn’t win.  No change on the latter then, as we break our record for most number of consecutive home games without a win (is it 12 now?)  Furthermore, if we don’t win another home game this season (feasible) we break our all-time record for least number of home wins in a season.  Great.  So what we need is another member of our 3^rd division play-off  winning side to come along and deny us points.  This time it’s Josh Brownhill who pops up with an injury time looping header to give Little Lee’s Bristol City a share of the spoils.  This follows Josh Scowen’s 25 yard winner for QPR and Hourihane’s goal in Villa’s Villa Park win.  So, if (when?) we go down, if it’s by 3 points or less (feasible) we can say it’s our former players wot did it.  Good job Marley doesn’t get picked for Naaaarwich…

It's all downhill from here.

Yet we started the match like a train.  Not a British train but one of them there continental ones wot work.  Kiefer Moore is clean through and is fouled.  Free kick and a yellow.  Fans baying for a red and 85 mins v 10 men.  I thought the yellow was right.  Denial of a goalscoring opportunity?  Hardly.  I’ve not seen Kiefer Moore control a ball and run with it…let alone finish it…since he signed.  ‘More likely to score with his head’ I told my dad’s friend Diane.  Two mins later, he does just that, beating the keeper to the ball off a corner.  (Had we given them one of our keepers?)  One-nil.  Dreamland.  Only 83 mins to hold out.

Goalmouth action.

It’s an open game and City miss one great chance (was it a Jackson block?) before their guy cuts inside Yiadom and hits it into the far corner.  Great finish – but at least the 3^rd goal of this type we’d conceded this season.  Boro away, Dirty Leeds home…and there was another one got mentioned, I forget.  Yeah, great goals, but all AGAINST us.  If it’s that easy to cut inside and strike one, why aren’t we doing it?  Oh.

The Ponty v Bristol City.

The 2^nd half comes and we continue in an attacking vein, Moncur in particular driving from midfield.  Moncur lays a ball on a plate across goal for Paul Scholes…sorry, Brad Potts…to race into the box and shin the ball into the keeper’s grateful arms from about 4 yards.  Either a poor miss or unlucky, and I’m inclined to go for the latter, given the number of defenders the ball went through….and the amount of s*** Potts has got from various Londontykes this season.  Moncur is then taken off, Williams on, and the boos show the turnaround in Moncur’s (and Williams’?) stature around these parts too.  WTF is the manager doing?

855 away fans.  Allegedly.

Ahh, turns out Jose is a genius, as Moore holds a ball up wide left.  There is nobody within 40 yards of him…but who’s this, streaking down the pitch into the box?  Why, it’s the cavalry…it’s Brad Potts.  A perfect cutback is hit with the outside of Potts’ right boot and it flies in.  Delirium.  There’s some proper noise at Oakwell, and belief.  Apart from the bloke who said ‘I hope we haven’t scored too early’ (me).  Only 12 mins plus injury time to go.  

City flags.

As it was, turns out we did score too early. The clock is ticking down to injury time, they hoof a ball into the box and it’s half cleared.  Moore, by now, is off injured and Paddy McCarthy’s only input in the match is to fail to get anywhere close to preventing the ball being returned in from the left and Brownhill looping a lucky header over Davies.  I say lucky – there was no way he meant it.  But having seen it again on telly, it wasn’t the top corner job I thought it was.  Davies got a good hand to it, but he’s neither tall enough, or good enough.  Two-all and another nail in the relegation coffin.  This was our chance.  Robins fans, awake again, become the 2^nd or 3^rd team this season to chant ‘he left cos you’re s***’. I think they mean Little Lee.  Listen lads, you’re welcome to him.

Onwards and upwards!

The old Main Stand.

*** Moore.  Unplayable. This was the beast I thought we’d bought.  Held the ball up, kept possession, won headers (at their end and ours), scored, set up.  About the only mistake he made was, after bringing down a long ball superbly, and being clean through (at 1-1), allowing the keeper to save. 
** Moncur.  Most likely player to set anything up – and he did.  So let’s take him off for a defensive midfielder with half an hour left.
* Potts.  Good job he runs into the box, cos nobody else does.  Possibly shouldn’t take his shirt off in celebration with a body like that though.

Twitter MOTM: Moore.  I think we can all agree on that.

Londontykes' Top 3: 1. Moore  2. Moncur  3. Gardner

The view from the East upper.

Despatches:
Davies had two saves to make and conceded two. Fryers was an accident waiting to happen, but got away with it. Yiadom was alright, save for defending the 1st equaliser. So not alright.  Jackson and Lindsay were solid.  Isgrove was fairly anonymous, while Hammill looked keen and stoked up the fans when he came on.  Maybe the manager is getting the message about playing WINGERS on the wing. Or not.  McBurnie looked a threat, but too often he was wide left.  Still, you could see the terror in their defenders’ faces whenever he ventured towards the box with the ball.  Gardner was excellent, then disappeared when his mate Williams came on.  But at least they didn’t just stand around doing nowt, with Williams under instruction to get his ar5e up the pitch and join attacks.

All in all, a promising display, ‘cept at this stage, we need POINTS not ‘promising displays’.  Too little too late.
  
Drink du jour: Schneider Weiss on tap in the Old #7. Vodka and orange on tap on the train.  Good bants with a couple of Chelsea groundhoppers who’d been to Rovrum, and a Bolton fan coming back from Helland Road.


Away: 855. Three people, in three conversations, commented on how there were NEVER 855 Bristol there.  At any one time, I presume 300 were in the queue for a pie.

The Damage:
£28 train
= £28

The Tunes:
Damage and Joy (The Jesus and Mary Chain)
Lazer Guided Melodies (Spiritualized)

Panorama v Bristol City.

A present from The Captain to 'Geordie Owl' (me).

Carshalton Athletic 0-0 Guernsey, Saturday 24th March 2018

Carshalton Athletic 0-0 Guernsey (att. 405)

This way...

I’m starting to like ‘international weekends’. A chance to ignore England in some meaningless friendly or other, the avoidance of watching another defeat for my team, Barnsley, and a chance to go somewhere new – in this case Carshalton Athletic. An old work colleague is a Vice President (‘how do you get to be vice-president?’ ‘Pay an extra 60 quid on top of the season ticket’) and I’d been meaning to visit.

Turnstiles, looking uncannily like containers.

Actually, this was also an international fixture of sorts, as Guernsey were today’s visitors to the War Memorial Sports Ground. They’d also brought a fair few too, the best part of 100. Chatting to one of their big cheeses in the executive lounge (friends in high places: see earlier), it seems many were ex-pats now living here. He’d made the return flight – he was from Bermondsey.

The green of Guernsey FC.

I hadn’t initially planned on going to Carshalton. I was going to take pot luck and go wherever Dulwich Hamlet were playing, ‘unless it’s Needham Market.’ It was Needham Market, about 3 hours from London Liverpool Street by train. No thanks. Instead, it was Peckham Rye to Carshalton (one change) and an easy stroll to the stadium nearby.

The teams, like caged tigers.

I entered the social club to find about 30 Guernsey having a sit down meal. Little did I know, Carshalton possess TWO social clubs. I went through a door and found another bar, with fans milling and a match on the big screen (I forget who). Apparently it was all brand new and available for wedding bookings, etc. Between the social club(s) and the renting of the plastic pitch, the future looks rosy for Carshalton. Good luck to them. I grabbed a pint awaited my mate.

Carshalton team photo, 72-73; an actual tiger.

Phil (and the missus: she was in charge of making hot soup for the away officials) arrived and we chatted the usual rubbish. However, I did learn that Dulwich Hamlet, who’ve presently been evicted from their own ground, were offered Carshalton’s, but chose Tooting’s instead, mainly cos the latter had a lot more parking. Shame, as otherwise, Carshalton’s facilities were excellent.

I should bloody think so!

For a start, there was cover on all four sides*; behind one goal the cover extended the length of the pitch, the opposite end covered maybe half. The far side terrace though was quite considerable, as well as roofed. Perfect for Hamlet’s bigger support, even if the terrace is a little lop-sided. The stadium is completed with a small, smart, seated stand on the halfway line. We stood by the fence encircling the pitch.

*when telling this to a couple of Arsenal mates, days later, one said 'big wow', till the other one pointed out even Highbury didn't have cover on all 4 sides.  (Well, not till later years, and even then not much.)

Some Guernsey fans behind the goal.

What I hadn’t realised was how far up the Bostik 1st Division (South) Carshalton were, up there challenging for promotion and 6 wins in 6. Guernsey, without a win in 16, were lambs to the slaughter. Only it didn’t happen quite like this, with the Islanders holding out relatively comfortably, despite being camped in their own half. Afterwards, the Guernsey officials apologised; ‘we’re very sorry. That wasn’t meant to happen.’  Oh well.  I hadn't seen any goals, but it was a decent enough game, helped by the artificial pitch.  

Speaking of which, it's time for the pub.

Full time and, while Phil and Jane were off to line dancing somewhere in Surrey, I was told to have a beer in The Hope, near the station. A glorious pub and a worthy CAMRA award winner. I’m coming here (the Memorial Ground) again. I just wish The Hamlet had decided to play their games here too..

The Damage: £10 ent
£3.80 Amstel (x2)

Programme? I asked. Apparently, the league wanted a club to volunteer to go digital with their programme. To no-one at Carshalton’s agreement, the owner volunteered them. What this means is that the very people most likely to watch Carshalton (old blokes) are the least likely to want to read a programme on their mobile. Whothehell would?

The Tunes:
Favourite Worst Nightmare (Arctic Monkeys)
Fading Frontier (Deerhunter)
Fabric 84 (Mathew Jonson)

Carshalton Athletic panorama

Welcome to ....

The one-track entrance.

Pre-match meet 'n' greet.

Main Stand, Carshalton.

Robins' fans take over 2nd half.

???  At a FOOTBALL ground?

Everyone's favourite...Raheem Sterling(-Parker)

Beautiful wrought-iron gated entrance.

BFC 0-2 Millwall, Saturday 17th March 2018

‘They’re down. Definitely.’

Welcome to...the old Main Stand.

There were some angry people in the Old Number 7 after the match on Satdy.  Was there a worse performance this season? Well, there’s been plenty of competition.  But for sheer tactical ineptitude, this took some beating. How many centre forwards did we have on the pitch towards the end?  4 or 5?  Well, I wouldn’t care, but the only one capable of scoring (Swansea City’s Ollie McBurnie) was centre midfield by this point. F*** me.  Every time I sensed a change, I was waiting for McBurnie to be put up top, but no, he went from left wing, to left midfield, to ambling around in the centre circle.  WTF is this new coach DOING?  I cannot believe he’s passed whatever coaching badges he needs (did he buy them online?) cos it was a masterclass in how NOT to manage a team.  

Maaaan, it was cold.

Farnham summed it up perfectly: 'it was like watching a kids v dads game where all the youngsters came on to play up front.'  What formation were we playing?  It looked like 3-1-6 to me, bet Neil Harris hadn’t planned for that. Not that’s it’s any good as only one of the 6 knows where the goal is and he was stuck out on the left wing.  A more positive view (!) came from Pompey: 'Anyway any manager who can play a 3-1-6 formation deserves special praise I don’t care what the game situation!!'  All fun and games.

The teams line up.

From the off, we had Thiam on the right, McB on the left and Moore looking every inch the carthorse at the spearhead.  Gardner, Potts and Mallan to provide the creativity from midfield.  At least we were spared the Williams/Gardner combo.  Reedy has likened their inability to play together to England’s Lampard and Gerrard.  Well, if this is our ‘Golden Generation’ we need to call Houston.  We have a problem.

West (old Main) Stand seats.

For 20 odd minutes, all was well.  The game wasn’t going anywhere (hurrah, another point!) till Mallan, filling in for Williams, does what Williams does and gives them the ball in a dangerous position. Another pass later, they’re clean through and Townsend is picking the ball out of the net.  Their first shot on target?  Probably.  Still, I s’pose we bought Mallan to create, and boy, did he manage that.  0-1.  We proceed to not look like scoring, while the weather bounces from glorious sunshine to snow blizzard and back again.

Looking towards the away end during a sunnier spell.

I was continuing my tour of the ground.  My dad refuses to come till we start winning (!) and he looks more the sage with every week.  So I went for the West upper this week.  Cosy, dark…and the advantage of stanchions in the way.  I could have done with a few more, cos I could still see enough of the action to realise how s*** we are.  Plus, if truth be told, I was a bit lonely, not fancying moaning constantly to complete strangers.

The view from the old Main Stand.

Half time, Mallan is dragged off.  Bit harsh but I can understand.  Moncur is on.  Christ.  How many hapless ‘creative’ central midfielders do we have?  And how bad must McGeehan be, if he’s behind Mallan, Moncur and Kajagoogoo in the pecking order?  Worryingly, Moncur goes on to show he possibly IS our best midfielder, puts his foot on the ball, beats players, makes runs, and in one glorious move, plays a one-two, gets to the edge of the box and sidefoots an effort towards the bottom corner, which the keeper tips around the post.  (The keeper tipped a similar shot from Lindsay around the post, while McBurnie’s hook over the keeper was cleared off the line.)

Moncur on...we MUST be in trouble.

Unfortunately, this is to give the impression we were somewhat in the match.  Let’s ignore the 30 yard strike into our top corner for 0-2, a goal from the moment it left his foot. Now, Reds, here’s an idea: when kicking WITH the wind, use it to your advantage and HAVE A GO.  Millwall did and look what happened.  Fair play to ‘em.  We didn’t, and look what happened to us.  Little over an hour gone and quite a few fans take this opportunity to leave.  Good call.

0-2, clueless coaching, weather closing in, match going on....Ponty emptying.

Millwall miss the best two chances, Townsend saving a one-on-one and another being stabbed wide.  We are all over the place.  Morais finally sticks on a winger…but takes off a central defender and Gardner has to move to centre half.  This coach is making things up as he goes.  I go downstairs and stand in a blizzard for the last 10, while using a stanchion as protection.  Full time can’t come quick enough.

The last few mins are played out in a blizzard.

It is now 11 home games without a win and counting.  Not a sniff of victory at Oakwell for over 4 months.  Time is fast running out, and what with Brumingham finally bagging a win, things are looking bleak for us.  We’ve only won something like 2 games against the top 20 and we haven’t any games left versus anybody else.  We look as doomed as we have at any stage this season.  Oh well.  We might win more games next season.  Might.

Onwards and upwards!

The distant hills are a whiteout.

*** Yiadom.  Constantly trying to create, look for a pass, do SOMETHING.  Not faultless, laying a chance on a plate for them, but his tracking back helped the player put the one-on-one chance wide.
** Moncur.  Aside from Yiadom, the only Reds player not to s*** himself in possession.

* Gardner.  Tidied up, covered, rarely gave ball away.

Twitter MOTM: Thiam (I’m told). Wasn’t announced at the game, problies cos they heard fans laughing when it was announced we could vote for the MOTM.

Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Yiadom  2. Gardner  3. No-one

West Stand bogs (with added roof, since the last time I was here).

Despatches:
What’s your record for number of Walnut Whips in a day?  One?  Phil did 3 on Satdy and still bought another packet ‘for my mates’ (hoping we’d not have one).  His final tally of 4 is still pretty impressive.

I quite enjoyed the 1pm KO. Still time for a pre-match pint (literally: one) but time for a post-match autopsy in the #7 before catching a train to Sheff and another couple in the Tap.  Probably one reason Reedy and I did so poorly on our bottle of vodka – too much beer!

The players?  Well, apart from the aforementioned: Townsend: S***.  Penniless: S***.  Lindsay: S***.  Jackson: S***.  Potts: S***.  Mallan: S***.  Thiam: S***.Moore: S***.  McBurnie: Played out of position.

Which reminds me.  I walked into the Old Number 7 after the game.  Molly had baggsied a table (he left when the 2^nd went in).  ‘He needs sacking.’  That was it. No ‘hello’. No ‘mine’s a pint.’  'He needs sacking.'  I concur.  Has any 'permanent' BFC manager ever completely lost the faith of the faithful within 5 games?  Not in my memory.

Seeing out the last 5...a lonely experience.

Drink du jour: Wheat beer all the way (Erdinger and whatever the Sheffield Tap had) plus vodka, followed by pale ale in St P.  Then home (after falling asleep on a nightbus; where the hell IS ‘Clapham Park’?) then getting home, watching The Championship (glutton for punishment) and falling asleep on the couch.

Away: 740. At least they enjoyed themselves.

The Damage:
£30 train
£3 prog
£25 away shirt
= £58

The Tunes:
Favourite Worst Nightmare (Arctic Monkeys)
Fading Frontier (Deerhunter)
Fabric 84 (Mathew Jonson)

A deceptive Oakwell panorama.

Oakwell panorama.

The East Stand and the few gluttons still left.

The Ponty in busier times.

In the old Main Stand.

Come on you Reds! (1)

Come on you Reds! (2)

Arsenal 3-1 AC Milan, Thursday 15th March 2018

Arsenal 3-1 AC Milan, Europa League Quarter Final 2nd leg (att. 58,973)

Welcome to ...

Living in London and playing 5 aside in Finsbury Park on a Thursday night DOES have its advantages, as one of the lads, an Arsenal fan, has a spare ticket for this evening’s Europa League quarter final with AC Milan, a game I considered trying to get a ticket for anyway (until I realised I’d rather play footie). Our match finished 8pm, Arsenal kicked-off 8:05. No worries, we’ll only miss a few mins.

As it is, I’m on my expensive bike, with the cheap lock. There’s no way I’m leaving that outside the Emirates. It also brings back memories of the night Northern Ireland beat England, when I was parked up at the Michael Sobell Leisure Centre and someone kicked in one of my wheels while I watched the match in a nearby pub. Danny lived nearby, so I borrowed a decent lock and scuttled to the Emirates.

No mistaking which end I'm in.

Course, following playing, I was a bit hungry, so I parked up and raided the local Co-op. There was no way I was paying Emirates’ food prices, even if I was getting in for free. And despite knowing my alphabet, I still ended up walking ¾ of the way around the stadium to whatever entrance it was at the North Bank End.

The seat was superb, upper tier, near the front, right behind the goal. Mustn’t complain. Not sure I was dressed for it tho, in shorts and luminous cycling jacket, but it was a mild evening and, for once, most of the Arsenal fans had turned up. There was a sniff of glory in the air.

The scene is set...20 mins in and no goals.

Two-nil up from the 1st leg, this would surely be a formality. So up stepped Hakan Calhanoglu to hammer one in from 25 yards, bottom corner. OK, a long way out, but it was hit perfectly so I’m loathe to blame Ospina in goal. The next three minutes were my favourite of the match, as tension was in the air and the home fans’ confidence noticeably ebbed.

No need to worry though. There’ll always be an Arsenal player capable of falling over and gaining a penalty. In this case, Welbeck is blown over by a mysterious gust of wind. The ref isn’t fooled and plays on. Unfortunately, the 4th (5th?) official says he was touched and the ref changes his mind. Welbeck recovers to put the penalty away. Game over.  Half-time came and I even bumped into another couple of Arsenal mates.  'Guess who's an Arsenal fan for the night?' I asked.  'Well, if you're a proper Arsenal fan, you'll have to leave 15 minutes before the end.'  Who says Arsenal fans lack self-deprecation?

Milan players salute their fans at full-time.

Thereafter, it’s mostly Arsenal. They’re all about confidence, and now AC can’t live with them. Still, it takes an almighty botch up by Milan keeper Donnarumma to put Arsenal ahead, as he fumbles Xhaka’s long ranger over the line. Then, late on, Welbeck seal it, scoring heading in a rebound from close range after Ramsay’s effort was saved. In the end, it’s easy, 5-1 on aggregate. 

Milan fans bounce around like there's no tomorrow, while Arsenal celebrate by either leaving the stadium or chanting reserve keeper Ospina's name (I think, cos Milan fans were chanting something to whatever tune Arsenal fans chant 'Ospina')  Deep down, I’m quite pleased for the Arse. Perhaps if they win this tournament, they can hang on to Arsene for another season of filling the airwaves with their moaning. I hope so.  It's one of life's small pleasures.

The Damage: free ent (cheers Mani!)

Players take their applause.

Arsenal fans salute their heroes (!)

and most fans have left before the players.