‘It seemed very nice to meet you both.’
Yeah, yeah, a week later. You’d think work died down the closer you get to Jesus’s birthday. Still, at least I don’t have to amble around Palestine, looking for an inn, like his mam. I get to sleep on London buses on the way home, or my couch as I wait for the Barnsley highlights on my Freeview recording of The Football League Show on Quest. I’ve still not seen the highlights. Fell asleep and been busy the rest of the week. Have I told you I work hard? (ok, I went to see Adam Ant on Weds nite with fellow Londontyke Slacki and his better half).
The match? What stuck out, even at the time, was how much better the ref was than normal. We’d only been assigned one of them there Premiership refs, Jon Moss (I believe he doesn’t have a ‘h’ in his name, but forgive me if I’m wrong). Of course this is no guarantee of an improved performance; witness any time we play one of them there ‘big’ teams and the Premiership ref still gives everything in their favour – yes, I AM thinking of that penalty Dirty Leeds got for an infringement 5 yards outside the box the other year. But things got stranger…
The 3 wise men (Reedy, Anton and I) returned from Sheffield on a virtually empty carriage, and across from us was some vaguely smartly-dressed gentleman, sat on his own, looking a tad out of place. After a few mins he joined in our converse; he was obviously impressed with our in-depth knowledge of players, tactics and officialdom. ‘Where’ve you been today? You look a bit smart.’ ‘Oh, I was one of the linesmen at Barnsley today.’ F*** me. I think he joined in the chat cos we (I) was complimenting the officiating. Thank the lord Jonesy wasn’t here. He’d have imploded. Anyway, ‘Harry’ (I think) was a top bloke and gave us a few insights into the life of ablack man man in black. Basically, a couple of games a week and lots of courses (he was off to Leicester-Man C on Tuesday).
Yes, we played a game. And to the surprise of no-one, we swept the floor with league leaders Pompey and went in a goal down at the break. I’m not sure how we didn’t score, but I know how we conceded; Mowatt, under pressure from no-one, clears from the byeline – straight to their player, edge of the box, who controls and drills it into the bottom corner. I wouldn’t mind if it was on Mowatt’s RIGHT foot (the one he can’t/won’t use) but this was on his left, and he clears it 20 yards along the floor to them. P*** poor.
Before then, their keeper had tipped at least 3 shots over. Yes, he looked comfortable, but that was all about his placing (Davies, take note). Potts broke down the right, pulled one back for Woodrow, who, 20 yards out, hit it as sweetly as could be. Sadly, the keeper read it. A bigger chance was Potts blazing over from 10 yards. I remember when he could finish. We called it ‘September’. So, we’d played great, been the better team, and went in at the break one down. I’d settle for a draw…
At half time, Stendal replaced right back Cavare with centre forward Brown (I presume Dmitri was injured) and 15 mins later we had the equaliser; Potts crossed in a nothing ball and Woodrow did this thing where he MOVED and MADE IT HIS, stretching a leg for an easy tap in. How easy this football malarkey is. The match was ours now, we’d steamroll the league leaders who looked anything but. The short is: we didn’t; both sides looked comfortable and we never properly pressed on, despite a late chance for Kiefer. ‘How’d he miss THAT?’ I heard. I tell you how. He’s controlled it, then turned 270 degrees and dragged it narrowly wide. Coulda…shoulda…woulda…but we didn’t. This team should be top 2. Instead, we’re barely making play-offs. I’m asking Santa for more ‘ruthlessness’.
*** Woodrow. Held it up, brought other players in, passed to his teammates (!) and scored. Looked every inch the perfect foil for Kiefer.
** Pinnock. Twitter MOTM. Why’s he not linked with better teams than us?
* McGeehan. Looks better the more he plays for us. Still not in his best position tho.
Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Woodrow 2. Pinnock 3. McGeehan
 |
| Christmas in the Arcade. |
Yeah, yeah, a week later. You’d think work died down the closer you get to Jesus’s birthday. Still, at least I don’t have to amble around Palestine, looking for an inn, like his mam. I get to sleep on London buses on the way home, or my couch as I wait for the Barnsley highlights on my Freeview recording of The Football League Show on Quest. I’ve still not seen the highlights. Fell asleep and been busy the rest of the week. Have I told you I work hard? (ok, I went to see Adam Ant on Weds nite with fellow Londontyke Slacki and his better half).
 |
| A filthy day in 'tarn'. |
The match? What stuck out, even at the time, was how much better the ref was than normal. We’d only been assigned one of them there Premiership refs, Jon Moss (I believe he doesn’t have a ‘h’ in his name, but forgive me if I’m wrong). Of course this is no guarantee of an improved performance; witness any time we play one of them there ‘big’ teams and the Premiership ref still gives everything in their favour – yes, I AM thinking of that penalty Dirty Leeds got for an infringement 5 yards outside the box the other year. But things got stranger…
 |
| There were police everywhere. You'd think Pompey were in town. |
The 3 wise men (Reedy, Anton and I) returned from Sheffield on a virtually empty carriage, and across from us was some vaguely smartly-dressed gentleman, sat on his own, looking a tad out of place. After a few mins he joined in our converse; he was obviously impressed with our in-depth knowledge of players, tactics and officialdom. ‘Where’ve you been today? You look a bit smart.’ ‘Oh, I was one of the linesmen at Barnsley today.’ F*** me. I think he joined in the chat cos we (I) was complimenting the officiating. Thank the lord Jonesy wasn’t here. He’d have imploded. Anyway, ‘Harry’ (I think) was a top bloke and gave us a few insights into the life of a
 |
| The Pompey hordes. |
Yes, we played a game. And to the surprise of no-one, we swept the floor with league leaders Pompey and went in a goal down at the break. I’m not sure how we didn’t score, but I know how we conceded; Mowatt, under pressure from no-one, clears from the byeline – straight to their player, edge of the box, who controls and drills it into the bottom corner. I wouldn’t mind if it was on Mowatt’s RIGHT foot (the one he can’t/won’t use) but this was on his left, and he clears it 20 yards along the floor to them. P*** poor.
 |
| Halfway line inaction. |
Before then, their keeper had tipped at least 3 shots over. Yes, he looked comfortable, but that was all about his placing (Davies, take note). Potts broke down the right, pulled one back for Woodrow, who, 20 yards out, hit it as sweetly as could be. Sadly, the keeper read it. A bigger chance was Potts blazing over from 10 yards. I remember when he could finish. We called it ‘September’. So, we’d played great, been the better team, and went in at the break one down. I’d settle for a draw…
 |
| Pompey attack a corner. |
At half time, Stendal replaced right back Cavare with centre forward Brown (I presume Dmitri was injured) and 15 mins later we had the equaliser; Potts crossed in a nothing ball and Woodrow did this thing where he MOVED and MADE IT HIS, stretching a leg for an easy tap in. How easy this football malarkey is. The match was ours now, we’d steamroll the league leaders who looked anything but. The short is: we didn’t; both sides looked comfortable and we never properly pressed on, despite a late chance for Kiefer. ‘How’d he miss THAT?’ I heard. I tell you how. He’s controlled it, then turned 270 degrees and dragged it narrowly wide. Coulda…shoulda…woulda…but we didn’t. This team should be top 2. Instead, we’re barely making play-offs. I’m asking Santa for more ‘ruthlessness’.
 |
| The Ponty v Pompey. |
*** Woodrow. Held it up, brought other players in, passed to his teammates (!) and scored. Looked every inch the perfect foil for Kiefer.
** Pinnock. Twitter MOTM. Why’s he not linked with better teams than us?
* McGeehan. Looks better the more he plays for us. Still not in his best position tho.
Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Woodrow 2. Pinnock 3. McGeehan
Despatches:
I will leave despatches to George Moncur. He’s either the best player we have (5 minutes) or he’s not worth a place in our team (85). Looks a class above anything else in this division when he’s ‘on point’. I cannot fathom him. Subbed off.
Drink du jour: Wheat beer in the #7 and Sheffield Tap, and a bottle of red for the train. If it sounds like I’m mellowing, you haven’t had the hangovers I’ve had on a Sunday… (If you're wondering, the 'referee's assistant' has a penchant for gin and tonic in a can).
Away: 1,674. A decent turnout, and good lads too (the ones we met on the train up).
The Damage:
£32 train
£2 fanzine
£12 BFC mugs x 2
£18 DVD
= £64
The Tunes:
Family of Aliens (Teleman)
Hi Scores (Boards of Canada)
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| A blurred panorama v Pompey. |
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| The view from the Ponty (cheers Jonesy!) |
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