Where was I? Oh yes. A lovely walk along the canal towpath down the Colne Valley. Well, up until the bit that’s closed for repairs that are not forthcoming, about half a mile from the town centre. Broken Britain (cont.). On my lonesome, the world my oyster, so pre-match drinks in Brewdog and Parish, where a couple on the table next to me discussed their impending affair. Her: 30s, pigtails. Tidy. Him: late 40s, not discernibly handsome, receding hairline, peach or pink trousers, jacket, no charisma. Obviously some work power dynamic going on, but, really, this woman must be desperate. ‘Tell them it never ends well’ texted A. Divorced Londontyke. But marriage never ends well, does it? Divorce or death, it’s one of the two.
Where was I (part II)? Oh yes, I’m off to see Barnsley reserves in the lower division trophy, whatever it’s called this week. Do you remember when it first came out? The Freight Rover Trophy. Now it’s the Bristol Street Motors Trophy, via Papa Johns (I believe they do pizzas), The John Stones Trophy (aptly won by us) and Lord knows what else. Yes, I’ve seen the team. 9 changes from Satdy, 10 if you count Humphreys given a trot out in his preferred position up front. Personally, without a game this Satdy (international call-ups for Reading remember), I’d have forced the 11 who failed on Satdy to play, see if they could beat a mostly Terrier reserve side.
Huddersfield had made 7 changes, enough for Herbert Kane to be given a start. And if I said the 2 highlights of the match involved Kane being booked, and Kane being dispossessed in our box while he thought he had time to kill, that will tell you all you need to know. We gave starts to players such as Barratt (who?) and Nwakali (isn’t he our latest Great Exotic Hope? A midfield version of Oulare, or Iseka?) There was no Yoganathan or Jalo, on international duty. This match was made for them. As it is, I read this week that by 19, Tommy Lawton had top scored for a 2nd season for Everton. Jalo, meantime, can’t get a start for a middling third division side. He plays more games for Portugal Under 19s than he does us.
Kilip was in goal, and a good job too. Like Satdy, our keeper was far and away MOTM. Made several excellent saves, caught crosses in the rain and looked confident. Gent and Barratt were the fullbacks (they can’t be wingbacks if they don’t get out of our half, surely?) The opening half, Gent actually looked like a footballer and even made a couple of tackles. Second half, he was made to look foolish a couple of times. Centre halves were McCarthy (tidy, but unimposing) and Pines…who made a couple of good runs forward from defence before being sent off late second half. A ball had fortunately run to a Terrier who, one-on-one with Pines, got taken out trying to round the juggernaut. An apologist later said they’d heard a pink shirt was covering so it shoulda been yellow. Not a chance. Barratt was the other side of the field.
In midfield, Benson for Beds broke down again. Half an hour. He should be sponsored by the RAC or someone. ‘Breakdown assistance required for Josh.’ I’d put him on a stretcher and leave him by the side of the motorway for all the use he’s been over the last however many years we’ve had him. I know, I know. I should feel sorry for a player who, through no fault of his own, is continually injured. And I might, if he was on 200 quid a week.
Up top, we had Humphreys and Marsh. The latter, on a one-way journey to National League North, continued his descent. He had one chance, as a sweet, sweet move at the beginnning of the second half promised brighter things. The defence split, the ball came across from the right, Marsh ran to the front post, but on his wrong foot (another professional footballer with only one foot) he flicked it wide. Hauled with 18 minutes left for Alker (who he?) Humphreys battled, and might have done better had he been around better players. I can now see why the likes of Connell, Phillips, Cosgrove et al are undroppable. The dross in reserve is palpable.
Aside from that one move, we could not put a pass together. I realised 25 minutes in that I couldn’t remember us passing it to one of our players while we were in Huddersfield’s half. In the 20 minutes that followed we DEFINITELY didn’t find a pass in their half to one of our own. Just digest that. Once the ball was in their half, we didn’t find a single Barnsley player. Yes, we may have touched the ball in their half (rarely) but the next player who had it wore blue and white. Not even a flick-on in their half went to us, as we camped in our half, in a game we had to win to stay in the tournament, against a 3rd division side with Herbie Kane in it.
I didn’t walk back.
Onwards and upwards!
*** Kilip. Kept us in it 1st half with a series of saves and punches. (That’s what I wrote about Slonina, Satdy!)
** No-one. Absolute garbage, Barnsley!
* Gent. It’s charity week. He was ok 1st half.
Londontykes’ MOTM: 1= Kilip/No-one 3. No-one
Despatches:
This tournament gets worse. I blame letting in the under 21s teams of Big Clubs, but we little teams don’t help ourselves. Playing so many reserves must account for last night’s crowd…I think they said 2,182. That’s just over one-tenth of the attendance on Satdy. At half-time, the PA implored us to stay at full-time if it was a draw. He made the appeal twice, in case everyone f***ed off before the penalty shootout. (Thankfully it didn’t come to that, Town were out of sight by then.) What will our crowd be in our final dead rubber, at home to Donny? I’m getting my excuse in early. I’m out of the country.
Official stats say they had 25 shots to our 1. It didn’t feel like that, possibly cos only 7 of them were on target (none for us) and 10 were blocked. They won 2-0. A cutback sidefooted into an empty net and a cross toe-poked home in injury time. Last nite’s performance was so bad, it made me yearn for Satdy. Which made me yearn for Wycombe at home last week, which made me yearn for Stockport home,before that which…ad infinitum. A more generous man than me might say this season isn’t quite going to plan.
Drink du jour: Elvis Juice in Brewdog, Gamma Ray in Parish. Plus a nice pint at the station and a chat with the barman. He was a Town fan who’d chosen not to go as well.
Away: 342
The Damage:
£10 ent
= £10
*Even my travel was free, as I fare-dodged the journey home. Had to add SOME jeopardy to my evening!
No comments:
Post a Comment