I remember when Saturday was the best day of the week. You worked hard all week and you were rewarded with a match and a few pints (and half a bottle of vodka). What do I get now? A 2 hour drive to get soaked in the rain (surely the weather will be as glorious as it was in County Durham?) And since when were my trainers no longer waterproof? Then, in the pub, I get scolded by Mr Jones snr cos he hasn’t had chance to speak to #1 son cos I’m talking to him. Christ, he’s had 50 years to speak to him. I even got asked to stop singing on my way out of Oakwell, though I can understand that – even I don’t like my voice. Come to think, why did I have the Bros ‘classic’ ‘When will I be famous?’ running through my head? Surely it’s lesser known B-side ‘when will I next leave Oakwell not depressed’ was more apt.
Yet it started so, so….a bit better than it has been of late. Schopp rang in the changes, putting Devante Cole and Iseka up top in place of the ineffective Oduor and Freezer. Cauley dropped deep, making it a 3-5-2, but the pace of Cole and Iseka looked promising. If only we had someone capable of putting a ball on a plate for them. As it was, for all the pretty football, the half hour resulted in only one Reds chance, as Cole charged down a defender and ran clean through. The finish, on target though it was, was woeful. No confidence, easily saved. Did someone say he’s a centre forward? Still, his dad often needed 5 chances to score a goal, so, at this rate, I predict Devante will bag in January.
At the other end, we looked comfortable, though we still nearly gave them an opener early on as Collins fumbled a soft effort straight into the path of the centre forward. There’s nothing like creating your own opportunity to pull off a remarkable save, as Collins jumped back up to block. (TV replays confirmed I’m being harsh on Collins, as the original shot took a wicked deflection – I admit, I had a tip-off.)
The second half was simply abysmal. I think our 1st touch in their half was 5 minutes in, and offside. Cole, then Iseka, went off, but what is there left to say? Kicking towards the Ponty, the best we could do was a late 5 on 4 that Brittain blazed into the crowd from inside the box. This went nicely with his usual 25 yarder high, wide and not very handsome. Will SOMEONE ban this guy from shooting? He simply CANNOT do it. Mind, this wasn’t a problem last season as he delivered a succession of great crosses into the box. Nowadays, he has metamorphosed into Chris Shuker, a useless irritant whose only redeeming factor is his ability to run around a bit. Still, well played for the interview with Radio Sheffield afterwards, where he admitted the team were low on confidence (really!?) and had no plan on how to score a goal. Stick THAT on your gravestone, Schopp. (Genuinely, it was a refreshing change to hear a player speak plainly rather than the usual PR guff, so I respect Brittain for that at least.)
As the game wore on, occasional chants of ‘Schopp Out’ could be heard. Millwall sent on Tom Bradshaw (no danger there) and the towering Matt Smith. So it came as no surprise to see Mi’wa’ get a corner and NO-ONE pick up their tallest player. I mean, why would you? I’d position myself next to a dwarf and claim to be marking somebody too. That time, we had a let-off, as Smith headed straight at Collins. We weren’t so lucky in the last minute, as a looping corner from Wallace found Wallace, who had the simple task of getting it on target. Let the arguments commence, but I blame Collins – that corner looped so high, the keeper (unimpeded) had plenty of time to come off his line. He didn’t, 0-1 Mi’wa’ and ‘We want Schopp out’ ringing out from the home end. We are doomed.
Onwards and upwards!
*** Loko. Gave him a lift and received not only free beer, but a homemade lamb curry. Sunday’s dinner is SORTED!
** Whoever gave Nice Guy Chris coronavirus. Chris doesn’t know how lucky he was to miss this latest travesty
* The Reds Box Office. I forgot my season card. ‘Can I have a replacement ticket please?’ ‘Are you a Millwall fan?’ Eh!!??
*** Kitching. Are we playing a sweeper system these days? Cos if anyone’s making a last ditch tackle, or covering a run, it’s Kitching. Official MOTM
** Helik. Won his battles….and ended up on the left wing as we became more desperate.
* Cole. Go on then. Almost looked dangerous in that 1st half hour.
Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Kitching 2. Iseka 3. Helik
Despatches:
I meant to have a pork pie in the Old Number 7, forgot, and subsequently went hungry for the rest of the day. Got home, ordered a Chinese…then couldn’t go out cos the care company assigned to my dad don’t have the staff and I had to help out. I blame Brexit. Then when I did go to collect my takeaway, one cash machine was out of order and the other one devoured my card. My team is s***, my town is s***, my dad’s care company is s*** (but rest assured they’re claiming for 2 carers* from the NHS)
* can I say, the actual carers are first class. The company they’re working for are absolute shysters.
The players? What can I say? I know Schopp is taking all the blame, but surely he’s not telling them to go out there and be f***ing useless? Surely? Matters reached a new nadir at full-time as Cauley reacted to some abuse by rowing with the fans. There is something rotten in the state of Oakwell.
Drink du jour: A beautiful, beautiful, pint of Weihenstephaner before a rose lemonade.
Away: 511. I also needed the presence of police from DURHAM and NORTHUMBRIA constabularies. Are you seriously telling me there’s not enough coppers in Yorkshire for a minimal away support? And who pays for all this? BFC?
The Damage:
£3 programme
£32 petrol
= £35
The Tunes:
Lullabies to Violaine (Cocteau Twins)
Fighting Talk (BBC 5live)
Craig Charles’ Funk and Soul Show (BBC 6Music)
Thank goodness for a toasty car and a show like this. For a couple of hours I could forget all about what went before, even if it did lash it down the entire way. I can’t wait for next week. (International break.)
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